The Major (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sturmbahnfuhrer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mayfield_rpg2012-01-30 12:06 am
sturmbahnfuhrer) wrote in mayfield_rpg2012-01-30 12:06 am
Entry tags:
Thirty First Krieg - Phone/Action
[Ah, another death, another day to yet again rise! That had been the Major's motto since arriving in Mayfield.
Which is why it was so hard to explain why he was so goddamn angry at finding himself back in the town. The sense of wanting to destroy, to crush something....that wasn't new. That was a feeling he always had, the simple joy of causing the echoing destruction of something, no matter how big or small. But it was overwhelming now. The practiced patience he had learned in order to keep it under control had waned, had been chiseled away and was somehow gone in the time of his death and returned. His desire for destruction, for something, was hungry. And with a vengeance.
But the anger. The anger. That he never had a problem with, and even the angriest moments he had he could quell with great ease. But this, right now...why wouldn't it let up. This was new, and alarming in how unable he was to keep his emotions in check. The he couldn't quell them, couldn't control them....he hated to show it, but in the deepest pits of his stomach, he could feel a small knot forming. He could feel a small crack of fear.
The anger made him scared. The fear made him angry.
He paused for a moment beside his bed, starring at the walls. The ceiling. The floor. He felt, for a moment, that he couldn't walk. That to do so would invite some incomprehensible disaster that he did not yet comprehend. So he sat there for a moment. And then noticed the bedside lamp.
In a few seconds, the lamp would make friends with the floor, shattering into pieces as they met one another, the Major glowering down at it.]
[Phone]
[Hey everyone. Look whose back. And look who doesn't sound anything like himself. The sicking false sweetness that usually pervaded his voice is gone, replaced by a simple, straight, cutting voice, barely concealing the anger underneath it. Doing only a slightly better job concealing the fear.]
My. What a treat, to wake up and realize that this place, which had once been such a wonderful battle ground has somehow been vandalized. Has been compromised in what it is supposed to be.
I demand an accounting. What have you people done to my reward?
[Phone - Filtered to KINGDOM members and Schro and Rip]
Report. Now.
Tell me everything that has transpired, lack no detail no matter how great or small.
[Action - 1667 Nelson]
[Hey housemates. Feel free to hear some of the carnage issuing in from some of the other rooms as "dad" goes about trying to relieve his desire for destruction and violence.
The dishes in the kitchen? Destroyed, shattered around the floor. The windows too, one of which still has one of the chairs embedded in it. At the moment, the Major is busy in the front room, having just kicked in the screen to the television.
He's frowning. No. Simply violence isn't doing the trick. It never does. But it was worth a shot. And for the moment, he'll continue on it.]
[Action - Around Town]
[Small scale vandalism didn't work. Perhaps large scale vandalism will.
The Major, still dressed in his police uniform, blood-speckled from his death at Integra's hands, is on his beat regardless of his feelings. However, unlike his usual, cheery self, he's a little more...dour. His bill is pulled down a ways, trying to obscure his face, and on occasion, he brings his billy club up to strike the nearest window, shattering it.
If you're particularly unlucky, he might swing the club at you.]
Which is why it was so hard to explain why he was so goddamn angry at finding himself back in the town. The sense of wanting to destroy, to crush something....that wasn't new. That was a feeling he always had, the simple joy of causing the echoing destruction of something, no matter how big or small. But it was overwhelming now. The practiced patience he had learned in order to keep it under control had waned, had been chiseled away and was somehow gone in the time of his death and returned. His desire for destruction, for something, was hungry. And with a vengeance.
But the anger. The anger. That he never had a problem with, and even the angriest moments he had he could quell with great ease. But this, right now...why wouldn't it let up. This was new, and alarming in how unable he was to keep his emotions in check. The he couldn't quell them, couldn't control them....he hated to show it, but in the deepest pits of his stomach, he could feel a small knot forming. He could feel a small crack of fear.
The anger made him scared. The fear made him angry.
He paused for a moment beside his bed, starring at the walls. The ceiling. The floor. He felt, for a moment, that he couldn't walk. That to do so would invite some incomprehensible disaster that he did not yet comprehend. So he sat there for a moment. And then noticed the bedside lamp.
In a few seconds, the lamp would make friends with the floor, shattering into pieces as they met one another, the Major glowering down at it.]
[Phone]
[Hey everyone. Look whose back. And look who doesn't sound anything like himself. The sicking false sweetness that usually pervaded his voice is gone, replaced by a simple, straight, cutting voice, barely concealing the anger underneath it. Doing only a slightly better job concealing the fear.]
My. What a treat, to wake up and realize that this place, which had once been such a wonderful battle ground has somehow been vandalized. Has been compromised in what it is supposed to be.
I demand an accounting. What have you people done to my reward?
[Phone - Filtered to KINGDOM members and Schro and Rip]
Report. Now.
Tell me everything that has transpired, lack no detail no matter how great or small.
[Action - 1667 Nelson]
[Hey housemates. Feel free to hear some of the carnage issuing in from some of the other rooms as "dad" goes about trying to relieve his desire for destruction and violence.
The dishes in the kitchen? Destroyed, shattered around the floor. The windows too, one of which still has one of the chairs embedded in it. At the moment, the Major is busy in the front room, having just kicked in the screen to the television.
He's frowning. No. Simply violence isn't doing the trick. It never does. But it was worth a shot. And for the moment, he'll continue on it.]
[Action - Around Town]
[Small scale vandalism didn't work. Perhaps large scale vandalism will.
The Major, still dressed in his police uniform, blood-speckled from his death at Integra's hands, is on his beat regardless of his feelings. However, unlike his usual, cheery self, he's a little more...dour. His bill is pulled down a ways, trying to obscure his face, and on occasion, he brings his billy club up to strike the nearest window, shattering it.
If you're particularly unlucky, he might swing the club at you.]
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