That Time I Became A Dictator Of A Small Asian Communist Nation
- Thread starter HeroCooky
- Start date
- Original
- Pronouns
- She/Her
No, the land allocation works backwards from that assumption, and would include areas set aside for conservation.
Oh, I should also edit in that the city grid should also have green spaces spread thought the grid as well.
- Location
- 47° 09′ S, 126° 43′ O
Oh thanks,it seem beter than what i understood,sounded a little like an Coruscant style oecuménopole with a few place kept for farming
[X] [National Zoning] Welcome to the Grid
Last edited:
Vote closed
1983 - H2 - Midnight Almost Strikes
HeroCooky
Unverified Monstergirl
Everything is white.
There is nothing to be seen besides pure white like snow freshly fallen upon a canvas of nothingness.
And yet, a sound begins to toll out.
Steps.
Steps of shoes upon the ground, falling one after the other like a slow staccato.
Coming closer.
They sound out, one after the other, unto the ground, until...a heavyset man appears from the left, hands behind his back, wearing a black and white suit with a red tie. Dressed like one would to a funeral, or perhaps an important meeting.
Dressed like someone expecting to be heard.
And listened to.
The man unfolds his hands from behind his back and gestures slightly behind him with a minute twist of his torso, and his mouth opens.
A voice made from honeyed gravel, deep yet melodious and confident, emerges from his broad chest, and he speaks.
"The day is 1983," he says, and black numbers appear behind him in the white void. "The 8th September. Around the world, people begin waking up or going to bed on a Thursday like so many others, like so many to come."
The white void and black numbers are switched, with scenes of a rising sun casting its dazzling brilliance in hues of red, orange, and yellow, replaced by a setting sun crossing the horizon, casting the world into a black abyss.
Until lights appear, twinkling and warm, as a city is shown, the distant rumbling of thunder intermixed with the glimmer of tracers in the far distance, near enough to be worrisome, far enough to allow the people here to ignore the sounds with little willpower.
The faint shadow of a clock appears in the image, hanging over everything like a pale noose, ticking onward its endless circular path.
"It is 4:13 in the city of Baotou, and two weeks ago, the forces of the Democratic Chinese Republic left in a hurried evacuation, harrassed overhead by the soaring jets of both the People's Republic of China and Guangchou. They left behind a city of nearly a million people, fearful of their future and the forces marching in their direction."
Images of tanks and soldiers driving through streets deserted by civilians play in the background as the clock ticks on. One truck slows down and halts before disgorging soldiers by the dozens, many beginning to enter a large government building. In contrast, others fan out, the patches of the Guangchou Volunteer Battalion visible upon their uniforms, if the presence of armed women did not already hint at their allegiance. Then, the camera shifts abruptly from filming the soldiers a story below to the hulking forms of a quartet of Iron Tigers being driven down the street on a truck, oversized weaponry as visible as the scars of battle they bear proudly. Two of them hold a massive block of metal shaped like a shield, ugly craters pockmarking their surfaces, while another, equipped with an oversized rifle, looks straight at the person filming them.
They move on, and the video ends.
"The PRC and Guangchou took the city without a single fight a week after the DCR left, leaving nothing more than the bare minimum of a garrison to ensure public order and act as a tripwire if their enemy had set their retreat up as a feint."
A photo of a group of smiling men faded into existence over the void, each holding up a bowl filled with food as the flag of the PRC hung on the wall.
"They did not need to fight; the retreat was genuine. But they let through a truck, allowing it to enter the city, after being bribed not to look closer and ignore the vehicle's cargo. They likely had assumed these were looters rather than foreign agents, as they did not see any people other than the duo of driver and guard. A sensible precaution in these times, in these lands, they assumed. No need to be alarmed."
A CGI of the city began to appear, zooming out from the middle of Baotou, and a red dot began to bloom near the Yellow River.
"The task force of agents, soldiers, tanks, and Mecha racing after this truck was alarmed. They had finally found one of the missing nukes, and they were not willing to allow those who held it to do what they wished with it."
The red dot blooming near the river expanded, beginning to encompass a large portion of the city, rings appearing within and without. The words: 'Surface Detonation' are large and prominent above the image.
"They were here to stop them or die trying."
One after the other, the rings were marked.
"Nearly 400.000 People would die if that weapon detonated as planned. A further 230.000 would survive the coming days with grave injuries...if they were treated in a timely fashion. It is an unlikely event, as even the best possible outcome would have the fleeing survivors clogging any attempts to relieve the affected city. Hospitals would run over with patients screaming, whimpering, and dying. Tent cities would be erected anywhere they could fit, merely to contain the flood of injured, scared, and traumatized trying to leave a city dying of radiation and from a complete collapse of all services."
"A horror known only twice in the history of humanity would visit the people of Baotou, showing once more the destructive capability of all mankind when science is put in subservience to death and war."
The clock, always visible in the background, continued, nearly at midnight, and the soft tick of the clock grew louder, louder, louder until it was like a falling hammer unto an anvil.
And a second before midnight...it stopped.
"Yet, for Baotou, that future would not come to pass."
The scene changed, no longer a rendition of a burning and destroyed city but that of another morning sun rising above the city to the song of birds and the waking of nearly a million souls.
"Those who had tried to set this nuclear conflagration ablaze would meet a violent end, one from the task force sent after them, another by their hand. Baotou would not see the heart of a newborn sun bloom in its midst."
The scene, once showing a waking city, began to fall away slowly, then ever faster, until a large portion of China could be seen as if from orbit, browns, greens, and grey staring back indifferently to its silent observers.
And four lights glinted across the lands below.
Slowly, four black lines krept to the blooming balls of fire and smoke, drawing clinical estimations to each spot, names appearing as numbers rose.
The man appears again, hands once more folded behind their back.
"In the span of one hour, 1.4 million people were murdered. Two million more would follow in the next two years alone as radiation began to descend in the shape of a black rain falling across the nation, carrying the hidden, quiet, cruel horrors of radiation with it. Were it not for the political and humanitarian efforts spearheaded by Guangchou, distributing medical aid, opening corridors of evacuation, sending what medical personnel could be spared, and volunteers in the tens of thousands amidst an active civil war in the nation they were trying to aid, then the numbers would be fivefold, and the lives of those dying would have been hell on earth."
The man pauses as scenes of utter misery and torment begin to play behind him, some static pictures taken by reporters trying to immortalize the situation, others videos depicting scenes of medical personnel and helpers rushing everywhere in hospitals slowly emptying themselves as soldiers carried bodybags from rooms and hallways.
"And although it is unconfirmed, tales of triage were no stranger in those horrific days after the atrocities committed upon the Chinese peoples. And if they are real, then a painless death was perhaps the only mercy these men, women, and others could give their patients."
The man takes a breath as all these scenes begin to fade into the void once more, white beginning to creep into the world until all but the man was devoid of color once more.
"And were it not for the actions of one man aboard a submarine of the USSR, that mercy would have been given to far more if any at all. Vasily Aleksandrovich Arkhipov was all that stood between two naval officers serving on the same submarine as he and the launch of its nuclear complement. Upgraded with new electronic components, overhauled, and left to prowl the oceans once more a mere three months back, the submarine had not been in a position to inform its crew of the frantic scrambling of Guangchou's diplomats and politicians trying to ensure that what they were about to do would not come to pass. The work of these men, women, and others ensured that while millions of soldiers around the globe were readied as heads of state were ripped from their sleep or daily lives scrambled for answers; de-escalation would commence within a mere hour after the detonations. Blindingly fast in the political scene, glacial for those military commanders and pilots sitting at consoles and ready to sally out, leaving behind all to deliver retribution for assumed nuclear devastation on their homes."
"He stood there, key in hand, and argued that it made no sense for China to be nuked alone, that there were no more launches than one in retaliation from the nation, and that the computer had to, must be, wrong in its assessment. There was no nuclear war about to happen. Only a bug in the machine, faulty and seeing ghosts. Perhaps it was the arguments he used; maybe it was the lingering doubts of the other two officers loud enough to be convinced if only one spoke up, but the result was the same. There would be no nuclear armageddon for the rest of the world. The submarine would break the silence and confirm that there was no nuclear war between the First, Second, or Third World."
"Only the deaths of four cities from artificial suns."
There is nothing to be seen besides pure white like snow freshly fallen upon a canvas of nothingness.
And yet, a sound begins to toll out.
Steps.
Steps of shoes upon the ground, falling one after the other like a slow staccato.
Coming closer.
They sound out, one after the other, unto the ground, until...a heavyset man appears from the left, hands behind his back, wearing a black and white suit with a red tie. Dressed like one would to a funeral, or perhaps an important meeting.
Dressed like someone expecting to be heard.
And listened to.
The man unfolds his hands from behind his back and gestures slightly behind him with a minute twist of his torso, and his mouth opens.
A voice made from honeyed gravel, deep yet melodious and confident, emerges from his broad chest, and he speaks.
"The day is 1983," he says, and black numbers appear behind him in the white void. "The 8th September. Around the world, people begin waking up or going to bed on a Thursday like so many others, like so many to come."
The white void and black numbers are switched, with scenes of a rising sun casting its dazzling brilliance in hues of red, orange, and yellow, replaced by a setting sun crossing the horizon, casting the world into a black abyss.
Until lights appear, twinkling and warm, as a city is shown, the distant rumbling of thunder intermixed with the glimmer of tracers in the far distance, near enough to be worrisome, far enough to allow the people here to ignore the sounds with little willpower.
The faint shadow of a clock appears in the image, hanging over everything like a pale noose, ticking onward its endless circular path.
"It is 4:13 in the city of Baotou, and two weeks ago, the forces of the Democratic Chinese Republic left in a hurried evacuation, harrassed overhead by the soaring jets of both the People's Republic of China and Guangchou. They left behind a city of nearly a million people, fearful of their future and the forces marching in their direction."
Images of tanks and soldiers driving through streets deserted by civilians play in the background as the clock ticks on. One truck slows down and halts before disgorging soldiers by the dozens, many beginning to enter a large government building. In contrast, others fan out, the patches of the Guangchou Volunteer Battalion visible upon their uniforms, if the presence of armed women did not already hint at their allegiance. Then, the camera shifts abruptly from filming the soldiers a story below to the hulking forms of a quartet of Iron Tigers being driven down the street on a truck, oversized weaponry as visible as the scars of battle they bear proudly. Two of them hold a massive block of metal shaped like a shield, ugly craters pockmarking their surfaces, while another, equipped with an oversized rifle, looks straight at the person filming them.
They move on, and the video ends.
"The PRC and Guangchou took the city without a single fight a week after the DCR left, leaving nothing more than the bare minimum of a garrison to ensure public order and act as a tripwire if their enemy had set their retreat up as a feint."
A photo of a group of smiling men faded into existence over the void, each holding up a bowl filled with food as the flag of the PRC hung on the wall.
"They did not need to fight; the retreat was genuine. But they let through a truck, allowing it to enter the city, after being bribed not to look closer and ignore the vehicle's cargo. They likely had assumed these were looters rather than foreign agents, as they did not see any people other than the duo of driver and guard. A sensible precaution in these times, in these lands, they assumed. No need to be alarmed."
A CGI of the city began to appear, zooming out from the middle of Baotou, and a red dot began to bloom near the Yellow River.
"The task force of agents, soldiers, tanks, and Mecha racing after this truck was alarmed. They had finally found one of the missing nukes, and they were not willing to allow those who held it to do what they wished with it."
The red dot blooming near the river expanded, beginning to encompass a large portion of the city, rings appearing within and without. The words: 'Surface Detonation' are large and prominent above the image.
"They were here to stop them or die trying."
One after the other, the rings were marked.
2.02 Km - Fireball Radius – Nothing Remains.
3.24 Km - Heavy Blast Radius – Concrete Buildings are shattered. Nearly 100% Fatalities.
6.82 Km - Moderate Blast Radius – Most Residential Buildings Collapse.
17.5 Km - Light Blast Radius – Glass Windows Break, Causing Further Injuries.
17.9 Km - Thermal Pulse – 100% 3rd Degree Burns
19.2 Km - Thermal Pulse – 50% 3rd Degree Burns
23.5 Km - Thermal Pulse – 50% 2nd Degree Burns
31.5 Km - Thermal Pulse – 50% 1st Degree Burns
39.3 Km - Thermal Pulse – No Harm
3.24 Km - Heavy Blast Radius – Concrete Buildings are shattered. Nearly 100% Fatalities.
6.82 Km - Moderate Blast Radius – Most Residential Buildings Collapse.
17.5 Km - Light Blast Radius – Glass Windows Break, Causing Further Injuries.
17.9 Km - Thermal Pulse – 100% 3rd Degree Burns
19.2 Km - Thermal Pulse – 50% 3rd Degree Burns
23.5 Km - Thermal Pulse – 50% 2nd Degree Burns
31.5 Km - Thermal Pulse – 50% 1st Degree Burns
39.3 Km - Thermal Pulse – No Harm
"Nearly 400.000 People would die if that weapon detonated as planned. A further 230.000 would survive the coming days with grave injuries...if they were treated in a timely fashion. It is an unlikely event, as even the best possible outcome would have the fleeing survivors clogging any attempts to relieve the affected city. Hospitals would run over with patients screaming, whimpering, and dying. Tent cities would be erected anywhere they could fit, merely to contain the flood of injured, scared, and traumatized trying to leave a city dying of radiation and from a complete collapse of all services."
"A horror known only twice in the history of humanity would visit the people of Baotou, showing once more the destructive capability of all mankind when science is put in subservience to death and war."
The clock, always visible in the background, continued, nearly at midnight, and the soft tick of the clock grew louder, louder, louder until it was like a falling hammer unto an anvil.
And a second before midnight...it stopped.
"Yet, for Baotou, that future would not come to pass."
The scene changed, no longer a rendition of a burning and destroyed city but that of another morning sun rising above the city to the song of birds and the waking of nearly a million souls.
"Those who had tried to set this nuclear conflagration ablaze would meet a violent end, one from the task force sent after them, another by their hand. Baotou would not see the heart of a newborn sun bloom in its midst."
The scene, once showing a waking city, began to fall away slowly, then ever faster, until a large portion of China could be seen as if from orbit, browns, greens, and grey staring back indifferently to its silent observers.
And four lights glinted across the lands below.
Slowly, four black lines krept to the blooming balls of fire and smoke, drawing clinical estimations to each spot, names appearing as numbers rose.
Yinchuan - Surface Burst – ~78.000 Dead, ~120.000 Injured
Lanzhou - Surface Burst – ~480.000 Dead, ~230.000 Injured
Zhengzhou - Surface Burst – ~130.000 Dead, ~650.000 Injured
Beijing - Air Burst – ~700.000 Dead, ~1.000.000 Injured
Lanzhou - Surface Burst – ~480.000 Dead, ~230.000 Injured
Zhengzhou - Surface Burst – ~130.000 Dead, ~650.000 Injured
Beijing - Air Burst – ~700.000 Dead, ~1.000.000 Injured
The man appears again, hands once more folded behind their back.
"In the span of one hour, 1.4 million people were murdered. Two million more would follow in the next two years alone as radiation began to descend in the shape of a black rain falling across the nation, carrying the hidden, quiet, cruel horrors of radiation with it. Were it not for the political and humanitarian efforts spearheaded by Guangchou, distributing medical aid, opening corridors of evacuation, sending what medical personnel could be spared, and volunteers in the tens of thousands amidst an active civil war in the nation they were trying to aid, then the numbers would be fivefold, and the lives of those dying would have been hell on earth."
The man pauses as scenes of utter misery and torment begin to play behind him, some static pictures taken by reporters trying to immortalize the situation, others videos depicting scenes of medical personnel and helpers rushing everywhere in hospitals slowly emptying themselves as soldiers carried bodybags from rooms and hallways.
"And although it is unconfirmed, tales of triage were no stranger in those horrific days after the atrocities committed upon the Chinese peoples. And if they are real, then a painless death was perhaps the only mercy these men, women, and others could give their patients."
The man takes a breath as all these scenes begin to fade into the void once more, white beginning to creep into the world until all but the man was devoid of color once more.
"And were it not for the actions of one man aboard a submarine of the USSR, that mercy would have been given to far more if any at all. Vasily Aleksandrovich Arkhipov was all that stood between two naval officers serving on the same submarine as he and the launch of its nuclear complement. Upgraded with new electronic components, overhauled, and left to prowl the oceans once more a mere three months back, the submarine had not been in a position to inform its crew of the frantic scrambling of Guangchou's diplomats and politicians trying to ensure that what they were about to do would not come to pass. The work of these men, women, and others ensured that while millions of soldiers around the globe were readied as heads of state were ripped from their sleep or daily lives scrambled for answers; de-escalation would commence within a mere hour after the detonations. Blindingly fast in the political scene, glacial for those military commanders and pilots sitting at consoles and ready to sally out, leaving behind all to deliver retribution for assumed nuclear devastation on their homes."
"He stood there, key in hand, and argued that it made no sense for China to be nuked alone, that there were no more launches than one in retaliation from the nation, and that the computer had to, must be, wrong in its assessment. There was no nuclear war about to happen. Only a bug in the machine, faulty and seeing ghosts. Perhaps it was the arguments he used; maybe it was the lingering doubts of the other two officers loud enough to be convinced if only one spoke up, but the result was the same. There would be no nuclear armageddon for the rest of the world. The submarine would break the silence and confirm that there was no nuclear war between the First, Second, or Third World."
"Only the deaths of four cities from artificial suns."
Last edited:
Holy shit world war three almost happen
I hope we capture the leadership who ordered these nuclear bombings because these bombs alone are sufficient reason to perform another Nuremberg
Oh boy we doing overtime right now huh
- Location
- Raleigh, NC
Was that a Hitchcock reference?
DocMatoi
Theoretical Lover of Girls
- Location
- within 2 hours of the White House
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Closer to twilight zone, I think
Shout out that Soviet office for being a god damn hero.
I know stuff like that happened irl, its intimidating to think that without the will and obstinance of a single person, a nuclear holocaust would commence.
I know stuff like that happened irl, its intimidating to think that without the will and obstinance of a single person, a nuclear holocaust would commence.
DocMatoi
Theoretical Lover of Girls
- Location
- within 2 hours of the White House
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Same guy, as a matter of fact
Lurking_Badger
Cheese Enjoyer
- Location
- Wisconsin
Well, we know where 5 out of 9 of the missing nuclear warheads went. We just need to watch for the other 4.
I'm also concerned about the Beijing nuclear detonation being an airburst while everything else is surface burst. I'm hoping that whoever did this didn't get access to missiles for the warhead and instead just detonated it high up in a skyscraper.
I'm also concerned about the Beijing nuclear detonation being an airburst while everything else is surface burst. I'm hoping that whoever did this didn't get access to missiles for the warhead and instead just detonated it high up in a skyscraper.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Yeah, I'm less familiar with the American side of things, but the Soviets had a good track record for dudes just not pushing the button like that.
I also got the impression that the Soviet leadership was pretty cognizant of the horrors of nuclear war, like, on an emotional level.
- Location
- 47° 09′ S, 126° 43′ O
Does 1980 technology allow irradiated areas to be cleaned?
Whether that's the case or not, we're going to have to send a lot of help.
finally at least one good thing came out of this clusterfuck our reputation must have had a sudden rise.
great chapter as usual herocooky
Whether that's the case or not, we're going to have to send a lot of help.
finally at least one good thing came out of this clusterfuck our reputation must have had a sudden rise.
great chapter as usual herocooky
- Location
- SEAsia
- Pronouns
- Thou
The world's gonna know it was Guangchou's citizen volunteers that were first on the scene. That we had prepared for just this eventuality when we learned of the lost nukes.
- Location
- SEAsia
- Pronouns
- Thou
One time the USA lost some nukes in North Carolina, so we had our own share of bone heads
edit : What is with the carolinas and losing expensive and dangerous military equipment? First a nuke, then a F-35? Crazy
Mazeka
You must be joking
- Location
- United States
So which city will be the new capital of China? Nanjing, Luoyang, or Xi'an?
HeroCooky
Unverified Monstergirl
Luoyang will.
With much of the leadership presumably dead in Beijing and the civil war still raging, who exactly is left in charge of the PRC? The military? Or is there enough regional structure left to reform a civilian national government at the new capital?
What kind of government will emerge from such a horrific blow? Will their crazy islander friends be able to temper them into something strong and stable or will they fall over as so many post civil war regimes do?
What kind of government will emerge from such a horrific blow? Will their crazy islander friends be able to temper them into something strong and stable or will they fall over as so many post civil war regimes do?
- Location
- 47° 09′ S, 126° 43′ O
Am I the only one having problems with the media section?
When I select "reader mode" on the threademark media it says that there are 7 pages of posts but when I try to see pages 3 and 4 it bugs and puts me back into "view content" mode. Do you have that too?
When I select "reader mode" on the threademark media it says that there are 7 pages of posts but when I try to see pages 3 and 4 it bugs and puts me back into "view content" mode. Do you have that too?
HeroCooky
Unverified Monstergirl
I have that too. Weird. So it isn't on your end. Likely something borked with the servers or host of SV, give it an hour or two.