BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

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BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby Archduke » Tue May 30, 2017 6:18 pm

As you may know, the space Austrians recently fired an ancient space weapon at a bunch of major banks, in the hopes of wiping out much of the galaxy's financial system. Now it's up to you to make soaps about if/how the banks survive. Do they get blown up? Do they manage something? It's up to the people making the soaps! Nothing is canon unless approved, and  I basically have no control over any of this, but that doesn't mean we can't have some fun.
So Soap Away!!!
Last edited by Archduke on Wed May 31, 2017 2:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby Darkstorm » Tue May 30, 2017 8:55 pm

Nice transition. I may do a thing, even if I wasn't targeted. I have an idea...
Spoiler: show
it might never happen tho, don't get your hopes up too much
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby Colette » Sun Jun 11, 2017 10:41 pm

Spoiler: show
Sorry for the tl;dr brikfic, I just don’t have access to my bricks right now...

The last part with the chat was inspired by Scratch's MANWARS, obviously.

Disclaimer: This story is a work of BrikFiction. Any entities or coincidental similarities therein are purely fictional and do not reflect reality or real world details or circumstances.

Space Austrian space

The ancient alien satellite shuddered as it awoke and booted its systems for the first time in eons. Endless drifting had eventually settled the machine in orbit over a Space Austrian planet, armed with technology far in excess of what the empire could currently achieve but which now fell into its hijacked service. Wrought from gold and green transparent crystals by unknown and long-gone hands, the dilapidated superweapon nonetheless noiselessly spun itself into position and fired. Across the vast vacuum of interstellar space, four slender beams of light trudged onward, shining like polished emerald rods against the darkness.

---

Goldman Sucks NY Office, Moonhattan, planet New York, United Systems Alliance

“A toast to the Financial CHOICE Act,” Dr. Irene Kirisaki, the CEO of Goldman Sucks, declared. Reflected sunlight from the 43rd floor view of the Moonhattan skyline glinted across her signature gold lamé Oscar de la Renta dress and gold-dyed voluminous hair. She raised her glass, the blood-red hundred-G.R. wine within churning.

Dr. Lakshmi Kodali swung her golf driver in response. The CEO of Pernault Financial Group shielded her eyes with a gloved hand as she followed the ball’s trajectory, an action obviated by her diamond-studded Bulgari sunglasses. Even as a shimmering, translucent hologram, the bold colors of her casual Versace yellow print blouse stood out.

“An inevitable development, yet perhaps a surprising timetable given the developing policy risk and general incompetence in Wash-a-ton. Our analysts are predicting substantial upside across the industry,” Dr. Kodali replied, as she started walking towards the ball.

The two conversed in the client dining room of Goldman Sucks’ New York office, lined with rows of otherwise empty white linen tables and black leather chairs. Dr. Kodali holoconferenced from a golf course on planet Trattoria several thousand light years away, projected next to Dr. Kirisaki’s table. Even despite the private instant teleportation network that the Trattorian banks had set up between their offices across the galaxies, their executives still found themselves in more remote meetings than they cared for.

“Of course. The Dud-Frankfurter Financial Regulation Act has had a real impact on our bottom line. Our equity derivatives trading alone should bring in trillions more once unshackled from that burdensome law. And repealing the Seagull Rule should help your investment arm with liquidity,” Dr. Kirisaki observed.

She sliced another piece from her wagyu dry-aged T-bone steak - Trattorians were no strangers to expensive steak lunches and dinners, but most had to content themselves with drone-raised Monsatan cows genetically modified for taste, size, and accelerated growth. A few overqualified Ph.D. agricultural engineers still maintained family traditions and hand-tended to cattle on small farms in Trattoria, however. They massaged them, curated their grains, and allowed them to naturally graze on land fenced with barb-free fences. Dr. Kirisaki relished consuming the direct Lockean product of another’s labor - robot-made products weren’t quite the same. Her knife slid without resistance through the red, nearly raw meat, marbled with generous veins of fat. Blood squirted out onto the clean white plate and formed pools matching the color of her hair ribbon.

Dr. Kodali glanced at the enormous slab of beef occupying Dr. Kirisaki. “Not a business concern for just a moment, but if you eat that much meat on a regular basis won’t you get fat?”

Dr. Kirisaki smiled and looked at her counterpart. “Stress keeps you thin better than any diet or exercise. You should know that too.”

“Of course,” Dr. Kodali acknowledged.

Dr. Kirisaki’s gold Apple Watch buzzed, its solid gold link bracelet rattling against her wrist. She missed the more stylish leather Hermès watch she wore in her earlier days at the firm, but her increasing duties and notifications since ascending to senior management required a wearable device of some kind. Glancing down, she saw the ominous word “EMERGENCY” as the contact, coming from the Trattorian office.

“I’m sorry Dr. Kodali, but I have to take this. Perhaps we could talk again in five minutes?”

“Of course,” Dr. Kodali acquiesced, her hologram winking out.

“Hey SIRI, pick up the call,” Dr. Kirisaki ordered, before swiping from the watch to one of the windows. A video screen appeared on one of the floor-to-ceiling panes, which also happened to be a screen. Immediately a man she couldn’t recognize in a cheap suit - well, by Dr. Kirisaki’s estimation, it only looked about $5000 - appeared, and knelt on one knee upon seeing her. Anxiety was written all over his stubbled and pudgy face. It was obvious he wasn’t a fellow Partner.

“Madame CEO, I am Dr. Wilson, a Managing Director at the Trattorian Office,” he introduced himself. “I am here to report an imminent emergency concerning the Trattorian Office.”

The Managing Directors and Partners of the firm did have the right to immediately contact her regarding emergencies, although few had the courage to try. The last time she recalled was during the G.R. 2010 flash crash.

Dr. Kirisaki put on a charming smile. “Well, I’m listening.”

The managing director bolted up straight, arms by his sides and mustering as much confidence as he could muster. “Two planet-destroying laser beams have been heading towards Trattoria for the past few days, imminently threatening the Trattorian financial industry and our physical existence.”

“What of it?”.

“Excuse me?”.

Dr. Kirisaki set aside her fork and knife and looked at the MD. “Why didn’t you bring this up with your supervising Partner first?”.

“Well...” the MD trailed. She could discern the first cracks in his resolve. “He ignored me, which I thought was an inappropriate response. So I decided to escalate it to you.”

Dr. Kirisaki maintained her cheerful demeanor. “Do you know what an emergency is, um - your name agai-”

“Dr. Wilson.”

“Yes, Dr. Wilson?”

“Well, if this doesn’t qualify as an emergency, I don’t know what does,” he explained.

“Which division do you work in, again?” Dr. Kirisaki asked.

“Sales and trading, madame,” he answered.

“Let me explain a few things to you which you seem to misunderstand,” Dr. Kirisaki began. “Of course, given that you work as a Managing Director in Sales & Trading, I would assume you are aware that the entire purpose of that division is the business of taking care of risk, in all its forms and exoticities. The risk this stock goes up or down or sideways, the risk of Dolan Trump winning the presidency, the risk that a space laser obliterates our headquarters...

Of course, we are the industry leaders in hedging risk. Dr. Wilson, this company is a financial empire, it is more than a few people here and there - we have offices and Partners across multiple galaxies. No matter what happens, no matter how much chaos Nehellenium and the rest plunge into, this firm will survive and it will remain profitable.

Now, I’d like to return to my original question. Do you know what an emergency is?”

“Yes, madame, I remember it from orientation as an Analyst. It is considered a loss to the firm of over a trillion dollars, whether through trading, costs, or theft or destruction of intellectual property, assets, or minifig capital,” Dr. Wilson recited.

“Yes, and by that, the situation you described is not an emergency.”

“Excuse me? How could the potential destruction of -”

“Firstly, although our Trattorian office is our headquarters for historical and tax purposes, our main operations are concentrated in our New York office. Whoever fired these lasers clearly has no understanding of the galactic financial system.

Secondly, an emergency is a realized loss of over a trillion dollars, not a potential one. Dr. Wilson, every day this firm engages in risky transactions that could, individually or together, result in well over trillions of dollars in losses. Our derivatives exposure alone has a notional value in the quadrillions of dollars. We are the largest, most powerful casino in the intergalactic cluster - and yet none of these are emergencies, because they haven’t happened. They could happen, they could have happened, but they haven’t and they don’t.

And that leads to my last point - that these lasers you speak of will not happen. They will not destroy planet Trattoria, or Aeraria, or the headquarters of GS or Pernault. I am sure of it - more sure than I usually am of anything in this business. And yet you call me panicking about this triviality. Where are you from, again?”

“United Systems, madame.”

“Clearly you are unaware of Trattoria’s teknological and police capabilities. This failure to properly research has resulted in a failure to properly assess risk, and that in turn has led to your current failure to properly act. Just last week, when we had all those starving Msogoans protest outside our New York office over that bond sale we did with their government, one of them tried to smuggle in a hydrogen bomb. Dr. Wilson, we have made many enemies from our success, even entire interstellar empires, but we survive. The financial industry survives. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because we’re too fucking important, that’s why. Because the people in charge of the most guns and most bombs know that the galaxy will get really ugly really fast without us around.”

Neither said anything for ten seconds, before Dr. Kirisaki broke the silence. “Overall, as an MD in sales and trading, we pay you about $400 million a year to be able to judge risk and act appropriately. My assessment of your ability to do this has been shaken - I am ordering your supervising Partner to conduct a performance review.”

“Wait please plea-”

Dr. Kirisaki shut the screen off before she could even see his reaction. She finally let the smile she maintained fade, and sighed, shaking her head.

“Hey SIRI, resume the conversation with Dr. Kodali.”

Dr. Kodali materialized again. “Hey, that took longer than expected.”

“Sorry, just dealing with a kid. Can’t believe we could have a trader get up that high while being that jumpy...”

---

TNF Acuity, High Orbit of planet Trattoria, Meritocratic Republic of Trattoria

Stratego Dr. Rathnashyam leaned against the metal railing, careful not to let it bump into the decorative bars or pens on the chest of his impeccable white tunic uniform. A tall, lithe man with curly hair and a dark complexion, he stared out through the massive windows of the Athenia-class dreadnought’s bridge, utter blackness above and the Trattorian homeworld below. Concern over the possible vulnerability they posed occasionally nagged him, but he was assigned the command of the 1st Sector Defense Fleet, nestled in some of the most secure and uneventful space in the galaxy.

Glancing below the elevated command deck’s glass screens, desks, floors, and stairs onto the main bridge below, Dr. Rathnashyam observed a hologram of the home Principium star system and maybe a dozen sub-citizen ensigns manning desks. Trumpeted less than the S1 robots and Laplace drone tanks, the automation of large parts of the navy was nonetheless mandated by the A6 military automation act. The AI upgrades allowed almost all Trattorian ships to be manned by single-digit skeleton crews, and whole fleets to be commanded by a single Stratego rather than the multiple admirals of the past. Requiring experts in mathematics, statistics, and machine learning to tune the underlying strategy AIs that did the actual work, the Trattorian Armed Forces nonetheless encountered difficulty recruiting even the small amount of Strategos needed. Dr. Rathnashyam was among the few who - reluctantly - answered the call, leaving behind his former engineering job at the hedge fund ∂V Capital.

Dr. Rathnashyam pulled a piece of gum out his pocket, chewing on it and then chucking the crumpled wrapper onto the metal floor of the main bridge below for some ensign to pick up. He despised them - he had survived many years of sleepless nights and heart attack-inducing exams to attain his Ph.D. and thus his Trattorian citizenship, and yet he had to spend his days surrounded by these losers, the scum collected on the heel of Trattorian society’s boot. He planned to put in a transfer request to the Decagon central command team as soon as he was allowed, where he would be surrounded by other Strategos and Citizens like himself.

He heard an ensign climb up the glass stairs to the command deck and glared at him. Timidly, the ensign approached him and handed him an iPad.

“Sir, I’m ensign - ” Dr. Rathnashyam didn’t hear his name, academic failure sub-citizens were unworthy of remembrance, “ - I am here to report that the two planet-destroying laser beams from Space Austria we detected several days ago are finally arriving on the edge of the Principium system’s comet belt.”

Dr. Rathnashyam sighed. From the reports, the beams were aimed at the headquarters of Goldman Sucks and Pernault Financial Group smack dab on planet Trattoria’s Corpora/Aeraria metropolitan area, possibly the most valuable 200 square kilometers in the galaxy and the brain of the Trattorian economy. Admittedly it represented a more interesting development than the usual status quo monotony that characterized protecting the homeworld, but they had seen it coming for days. He had to credit the Space Austrians for being the boldest yet, but their attempt was still nothing the Trattorian Navy couldn’t handle with ease using standard operating procedure. He acknowledged that it was poor form to imagine a true threat to the Trattorian homeworld, but the engineer in him wanted a real problem to solve, an intellectual thrill.

The Strategos had presented a myriad of generic options. The simplest would have been to temporarily erect the homeworld’s planetary shield and let it harmlessly absorb the blasts, but the rest of the government rejected such a commercial disruption for an economic hub like planet Trattoria. In the end they had settled on Rathnashyam’s proposal.

“Very well, it’s time then,” Dr. Rathnashyam declared, gaining the attention of the entire bridge. “Patch control over the Lelantos-176 orbital missile defense platform to the TNF Acuity.”

“Yes sir,” an ensign below responded, tapping away at a light-projected keyboard on a floating glass desk. A targeting array and other metadata seeped onto the massive bridge window, circling out the as-yet far away green laser beams. A feed of the Lelantos-176 satellite, packed to the brim with ship-sized rockets and hanging under a black stealth coating in Trattorian orbit as a part of its orbital defense network, also came into view.

“Set the black hole missile to manual firing,” Dr. Rathnashyam ordered. The rest of the bridge looked at him in awe as he set upon the keyboard on his desk. Ominous red disclaimer boxes warned him about using an AN-treaty-regulated Superweapon, its potential star system-destroying effects, and requirements for proper authorization which he, as a Stratego, was allowed to give. The Trattorian president had already signed off on the launch yesterday anyway, a bureaucratic nicety.

He figured that it would be faster to do the metric calculations in Minkowski space himself than type the formulas into a computer, taking into account the Lense-Thirring effect as he remembered that this particular kind of Trattorian black hole missile created a rotating Kerr-type. It was all “elementary” physics from Trattorian high school, much simplified from earlier, more byzantine models to allow any Trattorian with a specialty in math or physics to operate them.

“All done,” Dr. Rathnashyam announced. Sure, he was launching a stellar-class superweapon based off mental math, but unlike the failure scum surrounding him, Dr. Rathnashyam had full faith in his intellect. Doubt never even crossed his mind.

“Fire when ready,” he concluded. He pressed his palm against the glass desk, providing the final verification necessary.

Immediately, the missile blasted off from the Lelantos-176 satellite, blinding the feed for a moment. In a few tense seconds its FTL engines had already reached the outer comet belt to meet the incoming laser beams - the missile was designed to hit targets as far as Trion in under thirty minutes, after all. When it detonated, black and noiseless and anticlimactic, the crew found themselves almost surprised at the lack of surprise.

For a brief moment, as the miniature black hole birthed into existence, the video feed flashing a brilliant green halo around darkness - the effect of gravitational lensing - before the black hole evaporated into evanescent Hawking radiation. The two laser beams bent away, their trajectories deflected by the black hole onto a harmless course away from the homeworld and eventually out of the galaxy.

For a lesser civilization, the incident might have been cause for celebration, or appreciative prayers to primitive deities. For Dr. Rathnashyam, it was simply another day of work. In a galaxy where even ragtag terrorists and militias could cobble together continent-leveling antimatter bombs, defending planets was a thankless, ordinary routine.

---

Welcome to Mobbit IRC, provided by the Internet Safety Mission
*** mob_63f3d4 joined #OCCUPY

<minja> USA congress getting rid of the last remnants of wall st regulations with proposed CHOICE act in house
Topic set by ComradeCamper on Thu Jun 11 GR 2017 -01:77:92 GMT-0666 (Venetian Standard Time)

<MANNServ>: [#OCCUPY] FUCK CAPITALISM! FUCK MONEY! FUCK WALL STREET! Oh btw check out this channel’s Kickstarter campaign: miniurl.com/3ggtr


*** mob_63f3d4 is now known as ComradeRei
<Blokguy>: No, clearly Sort Art Online is an anime about communism, because it's about love and friendship
<ComradeRei>: aiii guys .o.
<Blokguy>: Hey
<ComradeCamper>: Hiya
<whitezebra>: Oi. Still can't get a job.
<ComradeRei>: What we all talking about now? anime?
<ComradeCamper>: Actually, we were talking about the Space Austrian laser before Blokguy derailed the conversation again.
<ComradeRei>: @whitezebra did you even apply to any today.
<ComradeCamper>: The beams missed! They fucking missed!
<ComradeRei>: wait wat
<ComradeRei>: but the news said they were headed for the bank headquarters
<whitezebra>: well, I didn't rei, but you have to understand that I ahve a MENTAL DISORDER that prevents me from looking for a job
<ComradeCamper>: Yeah well the banks own the government.
<whitezebra>: plus the system is rigged
<ComradeCamper>: It was an inside job with their friends.
<ComradeRei>: fuck just when I thought real change was going to happen
<ComradeCamper>: Trattoria launched a fucking black hole missile to deflect the lasers. That's like Immortal-level tek there.
<ComradeCamper>: You realize how expensive one of those must be. Just to protect a bunch of banks!
<ComradeCamper>: Dude man nothing will ever change, the bourgeoisie own the means of production and society.
<ComradeRei>: :(
<whitezebra>: hey does anyone want to listen to my problems
<minja>: fuck off wide zebs no one wants to hear about your shit again
<ComradeCamper>: Man if we fuck with the banks maybe they'll launch a black hole missile at us too.
<ComradeRei>: this is why we need anarchy and communism
<ComradeRei>: get rid of both banks and govt in one blow
<Blokguy>: Yeah we should just treat everyone with respect. Oh btw did anyone watch re: re: zero
<ComradeRei>: Maybe we need another big protest. Or better yet march over there and fuck them up!
<Auto Ape>: Yo did someone say fuck them up
<Auto Ape>: I got several laser raifus if people are interested in that
<ComradeCamper>: Yo man imagine if they just let the lasers hit. Imagine how much better the galaxy would get.
<ComradeCamper>: Blow up fucking New York and Trattoria and New London and reset the whole fucking galaxy.
<ComradeCamper>: Somebody should fucking do it.
<minja>: yo careful we don't want the space cops looking at this
<Auto Ape>: Fuck the police
<minja>: don't forget what happened to underwatch
<ComradeCamper>: Goldman Sucks and Hells Fargo and the rest all get to live another day I guess.
<minja>: dude if all of Space Austria can't do it with some magical ancient ones tek then we don't stand a chance
<minja>: those banks can fend off a planet-destroying lazer
<Auto Ape>: There's got to be a way
<ComradeRei>: k this was fun but I got to go to work early tomorrow
<ComradeRei>: cya guys
<Auto Ape>: cya
<ComradeCamper>: Goodbye.
<minja>: ciao
<Blokguy>: CYA
*** ComradeRei quit (Quit: http://www.mobbit.com ajax IIRC Client)

Spoiler: show
tl;dr summary: Trattoria safely deflects away the Space Austria beams intended for Pernault and Goldman Sucks.
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby stubby » Mon Jun 12, 2017 10:51 am

Epilogue: deflected lasers strike previously unknown TL7 civilization, they blame Trattoria, LET'S FIGHT
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby Captain-Camper » Mon Jun 12, 2017 11:41 am

*laser hits research station and destroys the only known cure to the peach virus*
"Tallyho lads, snuggle the houses and burn the women! Leave not a single potted plant alive! Full speed ahead and damn the cheesemongers"
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby stubby » Tue Jun 13, 2017 10:05 am

Captain-Camper wrote:*laser hits research station and destroys the only known cure to the peach virus*

Trattorian medikal stocks jump +0.7%
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby Omega Prime » Wed Jun 14, 2017 8:28 pm

YAY! SCIENCE! Now I'm wondering, is there such thing as a mini-black hole missile? That should be a thing to block long-range lasers during ship warfare.
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby Captain-Camper » Wed Jun 14, 2017 9:57 pm

Silver dust/positioning yourself on the opposite side of the planet could fix that for you. The immortals are famous for their black hole tech
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby Omega Prime » Wed Jun 14, 2017 11:44 pm

Captain-Camper wrote:Silver dust/positioning yourself on the opposite side of the planet could fix that for you. The immortals are famous for their black hole tech

Why would you do that though? Black holes are more fun. Putting yourself on the other side of the planet does not provide killing
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby Colette » Thu Jun 15, 2017 11:02 pm

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Trattorian Foreign Relations Department wrote:My fellow Trattorians,

I am Dr. Xiaoqing Xianghao, the Chief Ambassador of the Meritocratic Republic of Trattoria. I will address a recent incident that occurred concerning the homeworld.

Several days ago, the Space Austrians, under the guise of a routine rocketry test, activated an abandoned orbital laser capable of planetary destruction. They aimed this superweapon at several galactic bank headquarters, including Trattoria's own Pernault Financial Group and Goldman Sucks Group.

Although the timely preparation of the Trattorian Armed Forces, under the leadership of Stratego Dr. Rathnashyam, prevented the incidence of any casualties or material damage, this act of aggression has not gone unnoticed. This provocation represents an assault on the current galactic order and stability, and on the financial systems to which our galaxy owes so much wealth creation and liquidity provision.

Trattoria reiterates that it stands firmly for progress and its amicable mechanisms, including science, meritocracy, and free markets. In all these sectors Trattoria leads by example. As one of the major superpowers in the galaxy, the nation will accomplish everything within its capabilities to promote these values across the civilized BrikVerse. No singular affront by various lesser races can alter this incontrovertible truth.

Science bless Trattoria. Ordre et méritocratie.

Dr. Xianghao


Image
From the desk of the Executive Office, Goldman Sucks Group wrote:To our clients and investors,

The firm would like to reassure all of our concerned fiduciary beneficiaries that no assets, intellectual property, or minifig capital were harmed during the Space Austrian incident. Further, the incident did not disrupt normal business operations for the firm.

This firm has served its clients and shareholders for almost 150 G.R.'s. Although the firm aligns with the rest of the industry in preferring the galactic status quo's low volatility and high liquidity, we are unique among our competitors in that we do not fear adversity. We have survived numerous catastrophes, including major galactic wars and financial crises. In fact, our talented team, consisting of the best individuals recruited from across the galaxies, works tirelessly to convert these contretemps into opportunities for profit for you.

The firm understands that many minifigs in the local galaxies group maintain several unfortunate misunderstandings about our business activities and intentions. Tensions have arisen, whether with protestors, the Immortal Empire, or now these Space Austrians. Nevertheless, the firm stands ready with a state of the art, elite security division that will ensure the protection of our assets and the operation of normal business. The firm is prepared to defend its continued profitability, whether through the rationality of the markets or through more coercive measures. The firm assures its investors that in the event of escalation with Space Austria or any others, that the civilized nations of the galaxy will step up in the defense of capitalism, with particular assurances from our home, the Meritocratic Republic of Trattoria.

The firm and senior management give full assurances that we will maintain our leadership in the industry and in our returns.

Thank you,

Dr. Irene Kirisaki
Chief Executive Officer, Managing Partner, and Chair of the Board of the Directors
Goldman Sucks Group


Spoiler: show
Disclaimer: This story is a work of BrikFiction. Any entities or coincidental similarities therein are purely fictional and do not reflect reality or real world details or circumstances.
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby stubby » Fri Jun 16, 2017 9:59 am

Aw. How much better would it have been if all this text had been spent on something other than nothing happening at all.

https://curiosity.com/videos/the-rules- ... rtvillage/

Fingers crossed for something happening behind the scenes to reveal that this wasn't the non-event that the Trattorians are pretending.
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby Tzan » Fri Jun 16, 2017 11:25 am

Yes, but ... then the whole Trattorian empire caught a cold and died.
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby Colette » Fri Jun 16, 2017 8:21 pm

If anyone still cares about this plot line in December when I get back home then I'll do something substantial. But I need a stopgap until then.

It was smothered in layers of bureaucratic language but Trattoria and GS are totally ready to go to war with Space Austria in retaliation...as soon as I physically am able to do such a plot line.
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby Darkstorm » Sat Jun 17, 2017 3:39 pm

Colette wrote:If anyone still cares about this plot line in December when I get back home then I'll do something substantial. But I need a stopgap until then.

It was smothered in layers of bureaucratic language but Trattoria and GS are totally ready to go to war with Space Austria in retaliation...as soon as I physically am able to do such a plot line.

Waaaaaiitt a minute... get Space Austria and Trattoria fighting in the Magikalennik war (if that's what we're calling that thing with the Kult of Darkness) and we can have even more participation... yes? no?  :P  :warhead:
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Re: BREAKING THE BANK - Community Soaps

Postby Omega Prime » Sat Jun 17, 2017 7:19 pm

Darkstorm wrote:
Colette wrote:If anyone still cares about this plot line in December when I get back home then I'll do something substantial. But I need a stopgap until then.

It was smothered in layers of bureaucratic language but Trattoria and GS are totally ready to go to war with Space Austria in retaliation...as soon as I physically am able to do such a plot line.

Waaaaaiitt a minute... get Space Austria and Trattoria fighting in the Magikalennik war (if that's what we're calling that thing with the Kult of Darkness) and we can have even more participation... yes? no?  :P  :warhead:

That would be amazing
Captain-Camper wrote:Brikwars: efficiency is our specialty


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Omega Prime
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