The Major (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
liebe_krieg) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowllogs2010-03-19 11:35 am
liebe_krieg) wrote in capeandcowllogs2010-03-19 11:35 am
Entry tags:
This is gonna be a warning
WHO: The Major and NPCs
WHERE: Nazi Mansion
WHEN: Shortly after this log concludes.
SUMMARY: The Major addresses the troops
FORMAT: Solo-log
The banquet room in the Major's mansion that had been used for Cavil's dinner party in January was now hosting a far different kind of gathering. About fifty men stood in a rough approximation of a parade formation, doing their best to stand stiffly at attention, dressed in a strange mishmash of gang paraphernalia and antique World War Two uniforms. It was a motley, ugly crew, characterized by scowls, scars, the fact that every person in the room was white, and swastika tattoos. From behind the podium at the head of the room, the Major leered down at them. They may not have been the crack Waffen-SS troops he had wielded at home, but they would still make excellent cannon fodder.
The room was silent except for the sounds accompanying the video being played on the immense screen behind the Major. Warrant Officer Schrodinger always took such admirable pride in his work, and right now his craftmanship within the prison was paying off in the shocked and horrified faces of the former comrades of Wesley Kries and company. The Major drew it out as much as possible, relishing their discomfort, before finally deciding that the point had been made. He raised a remote, the video shut off, and he began to speak.
"Gentlemen. We are at war."
"Gentlemen, we are in a terrible war. A war not just for our lives, but for the future of our race."
"Gentlemen, we are in a war where the odds are against us, our enemies are many, and our allies are few."
"Gentlemen, we are in a war where such shameful crimes as disobeying orders, showing cowardice in the face of the enemy, and allowing oneself to be taken alive can be met with no other consequence than death."
The Major's words rang out across the assembled goons, full of shrill, mad, urgency, and he paused for a moment to let them sink in before continuing. "The wretches you just saw perish acted in such a way as to jeopardize everything I have worked towards for these past months. Their rash, indulgent, and unnecessary killing drew attention we cannot afford at this so very critical and delicate juncture. Let them be remembered, then, as the traitors and incompetents they were!"
Nervous, halfhearted shouts of agreement sounded from among the audience, and the Major raised a hand for silence, which was promptly given. "Gentlemen. I have brought you all together from across the width and breadth of this country to accomplish a great purpose. I have sought you out, recruited you, organized you, trained you, armed you, and given you new homes in this City because I sense within you the same fire and courage that once drove my beloved forces of the Waffen-SS on their irresistible charge across Europe." This was a double lie, with the Major missing most of his memories of that war (a fact which grated on him, preyed on him, vexed him day after day) and the neo-Nazis bearing only the most passing resemblance to the iron troops of the Third Reich the Major had commanded. But the audience ate it up, believing every word, their eyes shining and chests swelling with pride.
"For too long those who think and feel as we do have been shoved to the fringes of society by those in power! For too long have you noble and brave souls been oppressed and looked down upon, forced into the shadows, kept from doing what you know to be right! But I come to you from a time when this was not the case, when the Aryan race marched unopposed across the face of the globe, when pride and strength and victory filled us each day!" The Major swept his hands outwards in a grandiose gesture. "I have rescued you, my friends, from that darkness of obscurity and contempt, from your foolish and corrupt leaders, from your own powerlessness. I have made you strong. And when we strike- when we burst upon this City like an unstoppable thunderbolt, blasting aside all in our path- I WILL BRING YOU VICTORY!"
In a flash, the discipline of the force broke down completely. They cheered, stamped their feet, threw hats and helmets and gloves in the air. "Major!" They cried out. "Sturmbahnfuhrer! Battalion Commander! Our Fuhrer! Major! Victory! Major!" The man behind the podium let them go on for about a minute, made a slight downwards motion with his hands, and they instantly fell silent again.
"We are now in the last stages of our preparations," he said. "The final pieces are being moved into place, and the time to strike is drawing within sight. Soon our long wait will end. Soon the fools who have forgotten the Third Reich will remember our power! Until then, these are my orders: you will be invisible. There will be no more assaults, no more foolish vandalism. Spread the word to your comrades! Apart from your training and other necessary tasks, you shall do nothing to draw attention to our operations. In this way, the City shall suspect nothing of what we are about to unfold upon them." The Major smiled. "Until it is too late." He threw up his arm in the old salute and bellowed: "SIEG HEIL! And glory to the New Millennium! Dismissed!"
The response was deafening as a forest of returned salutes were thrown up. "SIEG HEIL! SIEG HEIL! SIEG HEIL!" The Major's heart swelled with cruel joy as he watched. This, he thought, shall be a most magnificent war.
WHERE: Nazi Mansion
WHEN: Shortly after this log concludes.
SUMMARY: The Major addresses the troops
FORMAT: Solo-log
The banquet room in the Major's mansion that had been used for Cavil's dinner party in January was now hosting a far different kind of gathering. About fifty men stood in a rough approximation of a parade formation, doing their best to stand stiffly at attention, dressed in a strange mishmash of gang paraphernalia and antique World War Two uniforms. It was a motley, ugly crew, characterized by scowls, scars, the fact that every person in the room was white, and swastika tattoos. From behind the podium at the head of the room, the Major leered down at them. They may not have been the crack Waffen-SS troops he had wielded at home, but they would still make excellent cannon fodder.
The room was silent except for the sounds accompanying the video being played on the immense screen behind the Major. Warrant Officer Schrodinger always took such admirable pride in his work, and right now his craftmanship within the prison was paying off in the shocked and horrified faces of the former comrades of Wesley Kries and company. The Major drew it out as much as possible, relishing their discomfort, before finally deciding that the point had been made. He raised a remote, the video shut off, and he began to speak.
"Gentlemen. We are at war."
"Gentlemen, we are in a terrible war. A war not just for our lives, but for the future of our race."
"Gentlemen, we are in a war where the odds are against us, our enemies are many, and our allies are few."
"Gentlemen, we are in a war where such shameful crimes as disobeying orders, showing cowardice in the face of the enemy, and allowing oneself to be taken alive can be met with no other consequence than death."
The Major's words rang out across the assembled goons, full of shrill, mad, urgency, and he paused for a moment to let them sink in before continuing. "The wretches you just saw perish acted in such a way as to jeopardize everything I have worked towards for these past months. Their rash, indulgent, and unnecessary killing drew attention we cannot afford at this so very critical and delicate juncture. Let them be remembered, then, as the traitors and incompetents they were!"
Nervous, halfhearted shouts of agreement sounded from among the audience, and the Major raised a hand for silence, which was promptly given. "Gentlemen. I have brought you all together from across the width and breadth of this country to accomplish a great purpose. I have sought you out, recruited you, organized you, trained you, armed you, and given you new homes in this City because I sense within you the same fire and courage that once drove my beloved forces of the Waffen-SS on their irresistible charge across Europe." This was a double lie, with the Major missing most of his memories of that war (a fact which grated on him, preyed on him, vexed him day after day) and the neo-Nazis bearing only the most passing resemblance to the iron troops of the Third Reich the Major had commanded. But the audience ate it up, believing every word, their eyes shining and chests swelling with pride.
"For too long those who think and feel as we do have been shoved to the fringes of society by those in power! For too long have you noble and brave souls been oppressed and looked down upon, forced into the shadows, kept from doing what you know to be right! But I come to you from a time when this was not the case, when the Aryan race marched unopposed across the face of the globe, when pride and strength and victory filled us each day!" The Major swept his hands outwards in a grandiose gesture. "I have rescued you, my friends, from that darkness of obscurity and contempt, from your foolish and corrupt leaders, from your own powerlessness. I have made you strong. And when we strike- when we burst upon this City like an unstoppable thunderbolt, blasting aside all in our path- I WILL BRING YOU VICTORY!"
In a flash, the discipline of the force broke down completely. They cheered, stamped their feet, threw hats and helmets and gloves in the air. "Major!" They cried out. "Sturmbahnfuhrer! Battalion Commander! Our Fuhrer! Major! Victory! Major!" The man behind the podium let them go on for about a minute, made a slight downwards motion with his hands, and they instantly fell silent again.
"We are now in the last stages of our preparations," he said. "The final pieces are being moved into place, and the time to strike is drawing within sight. Soon our long wait will end. Soon the fools who have forgotten the Third Reich will remember our power! Until then, these are my orders: you will be invisible. There will be no more assaults, no more foolish vandalism. Spread the word to your comrades! Apart from your training and other necessary tasks, you shall do nothing to draw attention to our operations. In this way, the City shall suspect nothing of what we are about to unfold upon them." The Major smiled. "Until it is too late." He threw up his arm in the old salute and bellowed: "SIEG HEIL! And glory to the New Millennium! Dismissed!"
The response was deafening as a forest of returned salutes were thrown up. "SIEG HEIL! SIEG HEIL! SIEG HEIL!" The Major's heart swelled with cruel joy as he watched. This, he thought, shall be a most magnificent war.