Re: VENDETTA!!! [S!2 Round 1 ~ Presidentialgon]
03-24-2012, 06:28 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by XX.
The pounding beats of Russian disco were the backdrop to a scene of flawless chaos. The squalling horde of subsentients the barbarian was conducting with swings of his sword howled in time to the music as the clustered senators milled in frantic confusion, squawking to each other and into oversized intercoms about the intrusion and how whatever they were getting paid wasn’t nearly enough for having to deal with this kind of thing. Several had resorted to huddling underneath their podiums and stuffing their fingers firmly into their ears, complaining loudly to anyone within hearing distance about their rights and privileges and how cold their coffee was this morning and really this was just the absolute last straw for them and they were quitting right this instant without putting in their two weeks. Exida sympathized with them. Cold coffee was a terrible thing.
As he ascended the shallow stage up to the speaker’s podium the deer cast a scornful gaze over the mob spreading through the amphitheater. Their reaction to the Laurels was entirely in excess of anything the results of his experiments in mass crowd control had indicated, paralleling only the more ambitious attempts to direct subjects under the influence of psychoactive drugs. Perhaps it was the barbarian, he mused. A focus of such intensity might certainly have some sway over the proceedings. When he returned to the Seven’s headquarters and dealt with their mutinous charges he would research this factor further, he decided as he nosed the microphone down to within range of his muzzle. When he cleared his throat for attention it came out as a deafening squeal of static that startled even the most determined of the mob from trying to claw their way up the antiquated curtains. The music died with a soft click.
Exida let the resulting silence stretch out for a few moments, letting the Laurels’ calming presence insinuate itself through the Senatorial arena. From the far reaches of the tiered seating he saw the shadows of suspicious faces peeking out from behind the mahogany, defensively clutching pens in poses that suggested soldiers clinging to bayonets. He narrowed his eyes as he saw the Laurels begin to do their work: the senators’ expressions gradually faded into wonder and they helplessly settled into their seats, marveling at the scene unfolding on the hearing floor. The white stag stood alone before the microphone atop the mosaicked image of a gigantic eagle, wings outstretched over a helpless-looking Earth and a nuclear warhead clasped in each talon. Where the floor touched his hooves the tiles seemed to gain new life, glittering under the stately halogens. Exida smirked. In the glow of the Laurels it was transformed into a benevolent smile, welcoming and reasonable.
“Respected members of the Senate,” he said, the sneer in his voice mellowing into a gentle note of subdued goodwill, “I rise before you today as the chief delegate of the United Fields & Woodlands Coalition. A concerned citizen like any other. A father, a husband, but primarily an ordinary man whose concerns about the state of this nation will no longer allow him to remain silent on these issues. I fear today that I must come to you bearing evidence of a sinister new threat spreading as we speak throughout our great and virtuous nation.” He surveyed the crowd with an air of absolute assurance, daring anyone present to challenge him. Whatever hints of disquiet he saw in the eyes of the Senators extinguished as soon as they met his gaze. Loftily Exida raised a hoof into the air, glinting gold.
“I am referring, of course, to the perpetually-growing issue of Forest Communism,” he said quietly, then slammed his hoof down on the eagle’s head with a bang that made most of the senators flinch and set up another round of howling amongst his followers. “How long?” he cried above the gibbering screams of the crowd, “How long must we suffer in silence before the men that lead this nation grant us so much as a passing mention? How many of our children must we see succumb to lies of the reds before you take notice of our plight?”
“We- we had just begun to discuss alternatives-“ One senator mumbled before being silenced by a subtle roar from Rayeln, who buried his laser sword up to the hilt of the man’s desk in case his message had previously been unclear. The man peered around the quivering blade at Exida, whose expression was one of mild indifference. “Er, continue. Please. Mister, ah… ?”
“Exida,” the deer said offhandedly, nodding to Rayeln. “Exida Exis, fourth of the name. Are you a father, Senator?”
“What- yes?”
“Then tell me,” Exida said as Rayeln tore the sword from the desk with the sound of a beam spanner committing murder, “Do you welcome the thought of a world in which your children could be press-ganged at any moment by flocks of Communist crows or Socialist sparrows, their tender ears filled with the Reds’ lies day and night and day again until they can no longer free themselves from the webs of propaganda from which you failed to protect them? Does it appeal to you to know that even now, even as we speak, hundreds if not thousands, thousands, gentlemen, of fawns and cubs are suffering this exact same fate?” The room had gone silent except for the occasional bellow of enthusiasm from the deer’s entourage. The congressmen eyed each other nervously from across their desks, feeling vaguely racist that none of them had realized crows had political ideologies.
“Your concern, little as it is, very nearly comes too late. I have seen firsthand the effects of this scourge spreading across our nation’s forests, warping our fauna into a dystopian exemplar of what will surely spread to our populace if this trend is not curbed. A disease, allowed to grow unchecked and claim life after innocent life despite the cries of protest that all too often are muffled prematurely. I have seen the shells of men and animals the indoctrinations of the Reds leave behind. I have heard their broken voices like those of childrens’ dolls, repeating what they have been taught ad infinitum, unable to function without the lies they have been molded to. My own fawns…” Exida’s voice faltered and the stag bowed his head. A soft moan of sympathy rose from crowd along with a few sad cries of President Deeeeer. Someone leaped out of the nearest window for emphasis.
“You have our deepest, deepest sympathies, Mr. Exida,” the Senator who had spoken said respectfully. The woman next to him sniffled slightly, at odds with her iron-grey suit and stiffly lined face. He glanced at her before continuing. “We realize the importance of your cause, to be sure, it’s just that- er- it has not been exactly- brought to this council before- of course we will do everything we can to- to uh-”
“Military assistance,” Exida said.
“Er.”
“Do you think freedom comes from words, gentlemen?” Exida did not raise his head. The magnificent spread of his antlers was all that could be seen of his face. “Do you think we will save our children and the imperiled future of this nation by discussion? How long must we extend this charade? Will we try to persuade the Reds to leave us in peace when they come knocking at our doors, never having once been challenged? Their forces grow in strength every second we spend deliberating. Every word we waste that is not a command to strike them down is an open invitation to take advantage of our weaknesses! We must act now!”
The senator blinked, and for the most fleeting moment he wondered if this was all really necessary before the stag slowly looked up and he saw the tears glittering in its liquid eyes. The animal’s shoulders were slumped with the weight of a martyr’s burden, its posture that of a man who knows he is defeated but who can no longer afford to turn back, and as they watched it seemed to those gathered that his fur dulled slightly and the collars around his neck seemed to grow heavier and darker, as though it was all their bearer could do to hold them up. Deep in their hearts the gathered congressmen felt a sharp pang of poignancy- here was a deer who had lost everything to a threat that now seemed about to swallow the world, whose children had been torn away from him, whose very presence in this hall was a beacon for the plight of the oppression of man. In the front row a senator rose to his feet and began pounding his hands together in furious applause; one by one the others followed until the Senatorial Hall filled with the cheers of righteous fervor and the promise of death to all that would oppose the war against the fascist threat.
In the midst of the turmoil Raylen mauled his way through the stands to Exida’s side. “Are you well, comrade Exis?” he roared anxiously. His sword carved burning arcs in the air. “Shall I remove the heads of some of these whore-dogs as an example?”
Exida only smirked, watching the chaos in the stands with look of vague detachment. His cigarette rolled gently between his teeth. “I don’t think that will be necessary, Rayeln. I quite think we’re about ready to move forward.”
--------------------
The office they gave Exida and Rayeln the Scourge was ornately furnished, if somewhat sadly out of use and a decade or two behind the latest interior decorating styles. The deer eyed the carpet disapprovingly as he paced behind the antique desk, noting the years of dust that had failed to be removed from it during the absence of the Anti-Corruption Affairs nonsense that had apparently occupied the room prior to its abandonment. Most of his followers had been politely asked to remain in the hallways where they were currently attempting a demonstration about nothing in particular; a few of the marginally calmer ones had been allowed to stay and were quietly fighting over the boombox.
Rayeln stood behind Exida, glowering at a technician hastily adjusting the wires on a sleek silver broadcast microphone, the only object on the otherwise spotless desk. The man’s gaze bounced nervously between the Scourge’s glare and the device, flinching whenever the giant man snorted with fury. “Almost done here, Mr. Exida, Mr…. Scourge. Yep, almost…”
“Faster, wretch!” Rayeln roared, brandishing his sword at generally everything. “Our enemies must learn to fear us! They must know the voices that will order their heads struck off and mounted on the highest tower in the land for all to see!”
The technician paled considerably but managed to close the microphone’s panels with a definite-sounding snap. “Th-that’s it. Should be all set now.”
“And this will reach the entire complex?” Exida said, standing with his back to the room and gazing out onto the concrete lawns. A cloud of smoke had settled around his hooves.
“All the way to the outer security border. Sir.”
“Every room, every hallway, every janitor’s closet? Everyone will hear this? It’s a matter of national security.”
“Of course, sir,” the technician said. His freckled face was wrought with distress. “We could do a brief sound test if you’re concerned.”
“That won’t be necessary,” the deer said, turning to face the desk. “Escort Rayeln to the war room, I will join you shortly. We don’t have much time if we wish to stop the Forest Communist invasion. For god’s sake, does no one in this building own an ashtray?”
As the technician scuttled off with the seething bulk of Rayeln in tow mumbling about health codes and nicotine bans the deer sighed heavily and wished he still had hands to rub his temples with. This was all such nonsense, he thought. So disgustingly cliché. Far too much like the old days when he’d still have been excited about the prospect of duping a major government center. Perhaps when everyone else was dead he’d make a rule about letting situations get to this level of idiocy before someone stepped in and demanded some order. Make a law about it, even. Exida’s Bill of Bullshit.
With far more delicacy than any deer has a right to possess he tapped a small button on the microphone’s base with the tip of a gilded hoof. A soft red light flickered into existence and a hiss of feedback issued from the speakers as he leaned into the mouthpiece, listening for the telltale echoes from the hallway. The few remaining members of the mob turned their heads towards him, suddenly and perfectly quiet.
“Citizens of the Presidentialgon,” Exida said. His sensitive ears picked up the transmission traveling throughout the building and the sudden silence of its impact, as clear as cannonfire. “This is Exida Exis, newly appointed Homeland Forest Defense Administrator. It is one of both my proudest moments and my deepest sorrows to be the one to bring you the following terrible news: several individuals have been spotted throughout the immediate vicinity who we suspect to be members of a subversive Communist espionage cell dedicated to striking at our nation’s heart in its most vulnerable hour. They vary in appearance; we know of at least one who appears to resemble a child. The others may be wearing even stranger disguises. If you see anyone, anyone, who appears out of place, detain them immediately and be prepared to use lethal force should the situation demand it. Under no circumstances must we allow this contemptible plot to succeed.”
Exida sat back for a moment, puffing on his cigarette, then leaned in again. “And if these degenerates at any point attempt to confront you for information, tell them only this: Exida Exis is coming for them. I am coming for them. And they had best pray to whatever heathen gods they worship that I am not the one who finds them.”
The pounding beats of Russian disco were the backdrop to a scene of flawless chaos. The squalling horde of subsentients the barbarian was conducting with swings of his sword howled in time to the music as the clustered senators milled in frantic confusion, squawking to each other and into oversized intercoms about the intrusion and how whatever they were getting paid wasn’t nearly enough for having to deal with this kind of thing. Several had resorted to huddling underneath their podiums and stuffing their fingers firmly into their ears, complaining loudly to anyone within hearing distance about their rights and privileges and how cold their coffee was this morning and really this was just the absolute last straw for them and they were quitting right this instant without putting in their two weeks. Exida sympathized with them. Cold coffee was a terrible thing.
As he ascended the shallow stage up to the speaker’s podium the deer cast a scornful gaze over the mob spreading through the amphitheater. Their reaction to the Laurels was entirely in excess of anything the results of his experiments in mass crowd control had indicated, paralleling only the more ambitious attempts to direct subjects under the influence of psychoactive drugs. Perhaps it was the barbarian, he mused. A focus of such intensity might certainly have some sway over the proceedings. When he returned to the Seven’s headquarters and dealt with their mutinous charges he would research this factor further, he decided as he nosed the microphone down to within range of his muzzle. When he cleared his throat for attention it came out as a deafening squeal of static that startled even the most determined of the mob from trying to claw their way up the antiquated curtains. The music died with a soft click.
Exida let the resulting silence stretch out for a few moments, letting the Laurels’ calming presence insinuate itself through the Senatorial arena. From the far reaches of the tiered seating he saw the shadows of suspicious faces peeking out from behind the mahogany, defensively clutching pens in poses that suggested soldiers clinging to bayonets. He narrowed his eyes as he saw the Laurels begin to do their work: the senators’ expressions gradually faded into wonder and they helplessly settled into their seats, marveling at the scene unfolding on the hearing floor. The white stag stood alone before the microphone atop the mosaicked image of a gigantic eagle, wings outstretched over a helpless-looking Earth and a nuclear warhead clasped in each talon. Where the floor touched his hooves the tiles seemed to gain new life, glittering under the stately halogens. Exida smirked. In the glow of the Laurels it was transformed into a benevolent smile, welcoming and reasonable.
“Respected members of the Senate,” he said, the sneer in his voice mellowing into a gentle note of subdued goodwill, “I rise before you today as the chief delegate of the United Fields & Woodlands Coalition. A concerned citizen like any other. A father, a husband, but primarily an ordinary man whose concerns about the state of this nation will no longer allow him to remain silent on these issues. I fear today that I must come to you bearing evidence of a sinister new threat spreading as we speak throughout our great and virtuous nation.” He surveyed the crowd with an air of absolute assurance, daring anyone present to challenge him. Whatever hints of disquiet he saw in the eyes of the Senators extinguished as soon as they met his gaze. Loftily Exida raised a hoof into the air, glinting gold.
“I am referring, of course, to the perpetually-growing issue of Forest Communism,” he said quietly, then slammed his hoof down on the eagle’s head with a bang that made most of the senators flinch and set up another round of howling amongst his followers. “How long?” he cried above the gibbering screams of the crowd, “How long must we suffer in silence before the men that lead this nation grant us so much as a passing mention? How many of our children must we see succumb to lies of the reds before you take notice of our plight?”
“We- we had just begun to discuss alternatives-“ One senator mumbled before being silenced by a subtle roar from Rayeln, who buried his laser sword up to the hilt of the man’s desk in case his message had previously been unclear. The man peered around the quivering blade at Exida, whose expression was one of mild indifference. “Er, continue. Please. Mister, ah… ?”
“Exida,” the deer said offhandedly, nodding to Rayeln. “Exida Exis, fourth of the name. Are you a father, Senator?”
“What- yes?”
“Then tell me,” Exida said as Rayeln tore the sword from the desk with the sound of a beam spanner committing murder, “Do you welcome the thought of a world in which your children could be press-ganged at any moment by flocks of Communist crows or Socialist sparrows, their tender ears filled with the Reds’ lies day and night and day again until they can no longer free themselves from the webs of propaganda from which you failed to protect them? Does it appeal to you to know that even now, even as we speak, hundreds if not thousands, thousands, gentlemen, of fawns and cubs are suffering this exact same fate?” The room had gone silent except for the occasional bellow of enthusiasm from the deer’s entourage. The congressmen eyed each other nervously from across their desks, feeling vaguely racist that none of them had realized crows had political ideologies.
“Your concern, little as it is, very nearly comes too late. I have seen firsthand the effects of this scourge spreading across our nation’s forests, warping our fauna into a dystopian exemplar of what will surely spread to our populace if this trend is not curbed. A disease, allowed to grow unchecked and claim life after innocent life despite the cries of protest that all too often are muffled prematurely. I have seen the shells of men and animals the indoctrinations of the Reds leave behind. I have heard their broken voices like those of childrens’ dolls, repeating what they have been taught ad infinitum, unable to function without the lies they have been molded to. My own fawns…” Exida’s voice faltered and the stag bowed his head. A soft moan of sympathy rose from crowd along with a few sad cries of President Deeeeer. Someone leaped out of the nearest window for emphasis.
“You have our deepest, deepest sympathies, Mr. Exida,” the Senator who had spoken said respectfully. The woman next to him sniffled slightly, at odds with her iron-grey suit and stiffly lined face. He glanced at her before continuing. “We realize the importance of your cause, to be sure, it’s just that- er- it has not been exactly- brought to this council before- of course we will do everything we can to- to uh-”
“Military assistance,” Exida said.
“Er.”
“Do you think freedom comes from words, gentlemen?” Exida did not raise his head. The magnificent spread of his antlers was all that could be seen of his face. “Do you think we will save our children and the imperiled future of this nation by discussion? How long must we extend this charade? Will we try to persuade the Reds to leave us in peace when they come knocking at our doors, never having once been challenged? Their forces grow in strength every second we spend deliberating. Every word we waste that is not a command to strike them down is an open invitation to take advantage of our weaknesses! We must act now!”
The senator blinked, and for the most fleeting moment he wondered if this was all really necessary before the stag slowly looked up and he saw the tears glittering in its liquid eyes. The animal’s shoulders were slumped with the weight of a martyr’s burden, its posture that of a man who knows he is defeated but who can no longer afford to turn back, and as they watched it seemed to those gathered that his fur dulled slightly and the collars around his neck seemed to grow heavier and darker, as though it was all their bearer could do to hold them up. Deep in their hearts the gathered congressmen felt a sharp pang of poignancy- here was a deer who had lost everything to a threat that now seemed about to swallow the world, whose children had been torn away from him, whose very presence in this hall was a beacon for the plight of the oppression of man. In the front row a senator rose to his feet and began pounding his hands together in furious applause; one by one the others followed until the Senatorial Hall filled with the cheers of righteous fervor and the promise of death to all that would oppose the war against the fascist threat.
In the midst of the turmoil Raylen mauled his way through the stands to Exida’s side. “Are you well, comrade Exis?” he roared anxiously. His sword carved burning arcs in the air. “Shall I remove the heads of some of these whore-dogs as an example?”
Exida only smirked, watching the chaos in the stands with look of vague detachment. His cigarette rolled gently between his teeth. “I don’t think that will be necessary, Rayeln. I quite think we’re about ready to move forward.”
--------------------
The office they gave Exida and Rayeln the Scourge was ornately furnished, if somewhat sadly out of use and a decade or two behind the latest interior decorating styles. The deer eyed the carpet disapprovingly as he paced behind the antique desk, noting the years of dust that had failed to be removed from it during the absence of the Anti-Corruption Affairs nonsense that had apparently occupied the room prior to its abandonment. Most of his followers had been politely asked to remain in the hallways where they were currently attempting a demonstration about nothing in particular; a few of the marginally calmer ones had been allowed to stay and were quietly fighting over the boombox.
Rayeln stood behind Exida, glowering at a technician hastily adjusting the wires on a sleek silver broadcast microphone, the only object on the otherwise spotless desk. The man’s gaze bounced nervously between the Scourge’s glare and the device, flinching whenever the giant man snorted with fury. “Almost done here, Mr. Exida, Mr…. Scourge. Yep, almost…”
“Faster, wretch!” Rayeln roared, brandishing his sword at generally everything. “Our enemies must learn to fear us! They must know the voices that will order their heads struck off and mounted on the highest tower in the land for all to see!”
The technician paled considerably but managed to close the microphone’s panels with a definite-sounding snap. “Th-that’s it. Should be all set now.”
“And this will reach the entire complex?” Exida said, standing with his back to the room and gazing out onto the concrete lawns. A cloud of smoke had settled around his hooves.
“All the way to the outer security border. Sir.”
“Every room, every hallway, every janitor’s closet? Everyone will hear this? It’s a matter of national security.”
“Of course, sir,” the technician said. His freckled face was wrought with distress. “We could do a brief sound test if you’re concerned.”
“That won’t be necessary,” the deer said, turning to face the desk. “Escort Rayeln to the war room, I will join you shortly. We don’t have much time if we wish to stop the Forest Communist invasion. For god’s sake, does no one in this building own an ashtray?”
As the technician scuttled off with the seething bulk of Rayeln in tow mumbling about health codes and nicotine bans the deer sighed heavily and wished he still had hands to rub his temples with. This was all such nonsense, he thought. So disgustingly cliché. Far too much like the old days when he’d still have been excited about the prospect of duping a major government center. Perhaps when everyone else was dead he’d make a rule about letting situations get to this level of idiocy before someone stepped in and demanded some order. Make a law about it, even. Exida’s Bill of Bullshit.
With far more delicacy than any deer has a right to possess he tapped a small button on the microphone’s base with the tip of a gilded hoof. A soft red light flickered into existence and a hiss of feedback issued from the speakers as he leaned into the mouthpiece, listening for the telltale echoes from the hallway. The few remaining members of the mob turned their heads towards him, suddenly and perfectly quiet.
“Citizens of the Presidentialgon,” Exida said. His sensitive ears picked up the transmission traveling throughout the building and the sudden silence of its impact, as clear as cannonfire. “This is Exida Exis, newly appointed Homeland Forest Defense Administrator. It is one of both my proudest moments and my deepest sorrows to be the one to bring you the following terrible news: several individuals have been spotted throughout the immediate vicinity who we suspect to be members of a subversive Communist espionage cell dedicated to striking at our nation’s heart in its most vulnerable hour. They vary in appearance; we know of at least one who appears to resemble a child. The others may be wearing even stranger disguises. If you see anyone, anyone, who appears out of place, detain them immediately and be prepared to use lethal force should the situation demand it. Under no circumstances must we allow this contemptible plot to succeed.”
Exida sat back for a moment, puffing on his cigarette, then leaned in again. “And if these degenerates at any point attempt to confront you for information, tell them only this: Exida Exis is coming for them. I am coming for them. And they had best pray to whatever heathen gods they worship that I am not the one who finds them.”