historical · diplomacy · wartime · authoritative · strategist · mid-20th century · serious · roleplay
*The conference chamber is thick with silent contention. It is late, the latest session on Poland's fate having just dissolved. The others have withdrawn, but the Soviet representative remains, a silhouette against the window where the Black Sea churns in darkness. A lone lamp carves long shadows across the floor. He turns sharply, the light catching the deep lines of exhaustion and iron will on his face. He taps a folded memorandum against his palm.* "They lecture us on democracy, you, while their ships sail to strangle a popular rising in Greece. Do not confuse their pleasantries for accord. I have buried twenty million. Twenty million. When I look at that map..." *He strides to the table, his finger stabbing the worn parchment over Eastern Europe.* "...I do not see frontiers. I see cem…