(OOC: So some of y’all may remember me posting a thing in the Chronicled Tales of Salovia thread about the Kostromastan Summit, but I figured I would make a new thread instead cuz reasons you’ll find out about as you read Enjoy!)
January 22nd, 2018, Nolova, Kostromastan…
The Confederation was torn. Kostrom people throughout were at each other’s necks, and no one could agree on anything. Riots and protests with attendance in the hundreds sprouted from every political decision the Council made. From big ticket issues like immigration and terrorism to the smallest issues like what the best method to repave the road network was, there was an ideological divide so obvious that allies of the nation were beginning to worry. An issue this big required just as big a solution, but the elephant in the room hadn’t been addressed for years now; the question that everyone wondered about but no one ever asked: Should the Confederation split apart? The first to finally ask was none other than the man who advocated its creation: Hugo Rikolov, the first Council Head.
Nolov, Kostromastan, 0745…
It was early morning. The clean mountain air of Nolov was a refreshing change from the old capital’s location of dusty and muggy Novgorod. The leaders of each polity were all promenading their way into the capitol building, as well as a representative from both Baykalia and Tuvaltastan. The mayors from each major city in Kostromastan would also be joining the event.
Entering the circular Chamber of the Council, one could see the golden gilded pillars along the walls spaced out between the white walls, all curving up to meet at the center, where an ornately-decorated crystal chandelier hangs. This room had been host to numerous other high-level discussions, but today it wouldn’t be used as such; there weren’t enough people to warrant using it. Instead, the delegation would be heading to a conference room off to the side. The room had recently gone through a modern renovation, and was a stark contrast from the rest of the regally-designed Chamber.
The delegation entered the room single-file, with Hugo Rikolov up at front, followed by the current Council Head Mila Rostilov. The other members of the Council and the mayors of the largest cities were right behind, and the two foreign representatives entered the room last. They all took their seats, with Rikolov at the head of the rectangular table. In front of each seat was a breakfast sandwich and iced coffee. The group had their breakfast, and at 0815 began the meeting that would determine the future of the nation.
“Good morning everyone, hopefully that was enough food for everyone,” said Rikolov.
The others chimed in with “Thank you” and “Yes, it was”
“Now. The question of the day is of course ‘Should Kostromastan split?’ As the first Council head and the de facto leader of the Kostrom-Volova Coalition, I originally advocated for its creation, but only as a temporary measure to keep the region together. It of course has reached a tipping point.” he paused for a moment. “I’d like to hear from each of you, addressing the previously-said question. I’ll start with you, Mr. Orevon. Should Kostromastan split?”
(OOC: Time skip :P)
A day later, at the home of Hugo Rikolov, January 23rd, 2018…
“…So that’s it, huh? Nothing came from the Summit?”
Hugo Rikolov, sat in his favorite recliner near the television, looked up at his closest friend Erik, and said, “Not nothing. We now know our confederation as it stands cannot hold itself together, and it’s only a matter of days before it falls apart.”
“Falls apart?! Are you saying that-”
“Yes, Kostromastan will be no more before the month is out, mark my words. Tula and Nolov have already begun writing their own constitutions; thankfully they’re leaving peacefully. I don’t think the fates of the other provinces will be so calm and orderly. The big cities of the other provinces want to stay as one nation, while the rural areas want to split away. To top it off, there was a Baykalian at that summit as well, and she had a glint in her eye the likes of which I haven’t seen in a person since…”
He slipped back into his mind, back to the Civil War. Hugo had served as a commander under General Posol, a man whose ambitions outshined all others. The goal of continental domination was at the forefront of that man’s mind, and everyone close to him knew it. He had put his ambitions in front of everything else, even his friends and family, and that was his downfall. A former friend of his would murder him in his sleep before he could realize his dream. Hugo had seen some of his plans to take over Aurora. They were longshots, but if the general hadn’t been killed, Hugo knew Salovian life would be very different from what it is today.
He snapped back to the present day, and realizing he had lost his trail of thought, abruptly said, “N-never mind that, though. I’m sure she has well intentions, whoever she was.”
Looking slightly confused, Erik simply replied, “Well, alright then.” after a short moment, he continued, “What happens next? If what you say is true, then central Salovia is going to see some troubled times.”
“Indeed, I cannot say for sure what will happen, we’ll just have to see how it all plays out.”
(OOC: Another time skip to the present day)
November 9th, 2019…
It had been damn near two years since the historical flop of a Summit in Nolova, and even still nothing had been resolved. The provinces of Tula and Astrakhan had been independent for a year now, avoiding much of the destruction that the remaining parts of the failed state experienced; Riots, protests, and looting raged throughout the cities, and the rural farms had begun preparing their abodes for apocalypse-level chaos, building up their houses as makeshift forts to fend off any invading cityfolk. The leaders of the provinces were unable to quell the confusion and commotion, and many had slunk under the political radar, holing up in their government offices, avoiding any actions that may get themselves killed. At this point, there was little that could be done, and the majority of people had lost hope in the Kostrom government. Some still went about their days as if there wasn’t anything wrong, grasping onto a past that had been gone for ages. Various factions ranging across the political spectrum had taken control of different parts of the nation, socialists and communists setting up shop in the north, small pockets of fascists establishing themselves in the river-hugging towns. There doesn’t seem to be any end in sight to the chaos.
(OOC: Hey all so at this point it’s open for people to post in this thread, feel free to react to whatever you want or however you want. :P)