01-14-2011, 12:54 AM
“I think we’re going to need more cookies.”
Sigfried stared out over the ocean of people before them in simply awe of the sheer immensity of the crowd. It was inspiring to see the fruits of his labor lapping up over the banks and shores of the street, a great teeming herd of folk gathered to bask in the glory of Munin’s words.
They weren’t even a real militia yet. Only about half of them had weapons and those who did had dragged their shotguns and proverbial pitchforks from their homes. He supposed that was their right. That’s why it was written into the law like that, so that the people should form a militia. As it stood, it was apparent most of the people on Earth hadn’t been exactly utilizing that right.
The ECM now consisted not of families, but of clans and hordes. Fathers, mothers, even children filled the writhing rank and file of the incoherent blob. What he knew of military strategy said that is was properly coined as a “gagglefuck.” It was not the preferred formation for troops. Thankfully, however, the collection of people had not gathered to wage war, at least not yet. They had gathered for baked goods and the sweet voice of the new militia that burgeoned within the walls of society.
Jarka Veselyova had slaved for hours (and hours and hours) over the tiny electric oven in the humble base of operations for the ECM that was the basement of a large apartment building. It could barely fit two racks in the damn thing and it seemed to vary between the two heats of “Surface of the Sun” and “The Deepest Depths of Hell”. She had, however, managed to make some of the best fucking cookies the boys had ever had - and they had each had a lot of cookies in their days. Mom cookies didn’t stand a leper’s chance at the PlayBunny mansion next to Jarka’s cookies. These were Kai’s cookies.
Unfortunately she had make a paltry four hundred eighty three cookies in addition to a number of other baked goods which seemed to teem and flow from the edges of the table like some kind of living wave of confectionary delight. There were around ten thousand men, women and children at the rally. There were not enough cookies.
Hati had managed to steal a good handful and Skoll had bought exactly two and one half before the devastation of the cook’s love child began. Sigfried was too busy quivering in terror as the onslaught began to really make much motion on them, but he did have exclusive rights to the crumbs that were left in the crevasses of the table.
Roy had planned on opening his speech after the bake sale had gone on for a little while, and, being that he had only briefly mentioned the sale in his latest interview, he had not expected such a turnout. It was phenomenal. If they could call these numbers forth from the cracks in the walls imagine the power they could wield with a rallying call to arms? Even Roy was shocked at the amount of snowball fanaticism they had garnered. It was terrifying. It was an awesome pride and fear that crept up from inside him. The fear that comes when you see your very deepest aspirations coming true. That creeping agony that crawls through your heart when you are almost afraid of yourself.
There he stood, alone in front of that wall of men and women. His voice was filtered through a microphone and through a pair of massive loudspeakers that, for once, he wished could actually turn up to eleven. The crowd roared until his lips parted, and, like a cackling clan of hyena when the lion spoke his mind, they fell suddenly silent.
“We have gone on too long alone, people of Earth.” His crystal blue eyes searched the faces of the people that followed him. “This is not an issue of Central City… or West City… or South City, this is an issue of mankind. This is no longer something we should ignore. This is no longer something we can ignore.” His voice was calm and slow, a solemn difference to his usual energy and vigor. The crowd gazed up upon him like doe in the headlights of a monstrous semi.
He suddenly exploded with energy, his voice booming like the voice of Kai. “Look at us!” He waved his hand over the people dramatically. “We wouldn’t be here if it were not for our fear. Yes! I said it! We. Are. AFRAID!” His hands gripped at the podium as he leaned in, a furious expression on his face. Voices murmured in the crowd, tones too low to challenge his verbal might.
He nodded softly and paced back and forth slowly before returning to the mic.“Why shouldn’t we be? How can we ignore the problems that are facing us anymore?” He joust his index fingers about the crowd seemingly randomly, but his presence dipped and flowed back down to sooth the minds of the jostled populace.
“What have they done for you? The government.” He wiped his hair back as several strands had come loose in his fervor. “What have they done for us? The entire purpose of a government is to provide for the people what they cannot provide for themselves. We are more than capable of providing ourselves with inaction. Is that what you pay your taxes for? Is that what you vote for and go through every forsaken year we live under this cabinet?”
He shook his head slowly and his voice dropped so low the microphone barely picked it up. “I didn’t think so.” The crowd’s whispers slowly grew to the howls of a wild horde. People flailed and threw things into the air as madness slowly overtook them. Roy was forced to slowly wave his hand to quell them and allow his speech to move onward.
He closed his eyes and dipped his head slowly, looking at his shoes in what might be seen as shame or disappointment. “No, that’s not why we follow them anymore. We follow the people up top because that’s the way it’s always been. Because that’s just ‘how it works’.” He threw up petulant finger quotations around his statement. “Is… is that what we deserve? I was once told by a wise man that, ‘Every nation deserves its government’.” He stared at the people as though to challenge them to disagree. “That’s right, we deserve this. We deserve it because we have done nothing to change it.”
Those cool blue eyes seemed to sear with fury now as he stared out across the people. “Well I think it’s time we change. I think it’s time for us to move onward and upward and through this invasion the way that we know we have to. The way we know we should because lives are at stake. Not arlian lives, not namekian lives, not frostlings or saiyans, but human lives. Your neighbors, my neighbors. They’re dying up there. They are being killed to keep Capsule Corporation’s assets safe!” He pounded his fist into the wooden frame that demonstrated his right to speak. “That’s not right! It’s not right to let our sons and daughters, husbands and wives suffer for people that would not lift a hand or claw to help us.” Once again the devil arose from the throats of the people in true motivated agreement.
He chuckled softly to himself and shook his head. “Have no doubt in my thankfulness to their service. That is what makes us human, our desire to help. Our yearning and calling to lift helping hands for those who need it.” He threw his hands up in the air and turned slightly, as if to show his agendas were not beneath his arms. “I don’t blame them! Who would? But my point is this,” he leaned in and poked his head out over the crowd as though he spoke to a long lost friend. “Why not here? Why not in our homes and cities? Are we not good enough for the Earth to defend?”
He sat and stared, making eye contact with each of the rabble below him.“No, no… I say we are.” He pointed down sternly to the people who gazed, mesmerized by his impassioned words. “I think it’s time you let them know you agree.”
With that he turned and began to stride away from his stand as a thunderous roar arose behind him. A man with soft brown hair, a dark suit and a crisp, passionate voice had alit rage in the heart of Earth. If the aliens were to scan the planet’s thermal signature you might think that the molten part was not at the core of the planet but rather dead center of Central City as the flames and spite began to roll from the mouths of the civilians who had felt so wronged. Memories of pointless, corporate-driven wars floated to the top. Ancient scars of twisted television shows and rampaging lunatics were uncovered from their hiding places and born with hate.
A riot did not start. It was not the city streets and businesses with which they were angry. No cars deserved to be flipped. No, these people headed home and to work and to their lives with a new sense of awakening. No longer able to close their eyes, Roy Munin had undone decades of brainwashing from television and news and lies. All the careful work of the overseers and the panderers and the ones who “knew what was best”.
It didn’t take long after. It was the first true crowd and the first truly inspiring speech that the campaign had to offer, and it had twisted heads on their shoulders. The people had begun to organize. They had begun to speak up on their own. Quickly news and radio was drowned in the voices of the unsatisfied. Talks that Roy should take a lead in the new cabinet were not uncommon. That he should be elected for office.
Some though, saw that Roy’s words were to call the people to revolt. To tear the system from its roots and bury the carcass under the foundations of a new republic of Mankind. Death bristled under their skin and threatened to protrude out and engulf their bodies and minds. They had been those of a similar mind as Sigfried, those who fought the invasion because they had tasted no purpose in life.
Others simply followed the pretty face and golden voice as they had done a thousand times before, this time with the added benefit of believing they heard the truth.
Such a strange time indeed for Earth when it was within their best interest to destroy themselves in a time of war. Even stranger when the people followed what was best for them. They made ready the weapons of their hearts and awaited to falling of the gates.
Sigfried stared out over the ocean of people before them in simply awe of the sheer immensity of the crowd. It was inspiring to see the fruits of his labor lapping up over the banks and shores of the street, a great teeming herd of folk gathered to bask in the glory of Munin’s words.
They weren’t even a real militia yet. Only about half of them had weapons and those who did had dragged their shotguns and proverbial pitchforks from their homes. He supposed that was their right. That’s why it was written into the law like that, so that the people should form a militia. As it stood, it was apparent most of the people on Earth hadn’t been exactly utilizing that right.
The ECM now consisted not of families, but of clans and hordes. Fathers, mothers, even children filled the writhing rank and file of the incoherent blob. What he knew of military strategy said that is was properly coined as a “gagglefuck.” It was not the preferred formation for troops. Thankfully, however, the collection of people had not gathered to wage war, at least not yet. They had gathered for baked goods and the sweet voice of the new militia that burgeoned within the walls of society.
Jarka Veselyova had slaved for hours (and hours and hours) over the tiny electric oven in the humble base of operations for the ECM that was the basement of a large apartment building. It could barely fit two racks in the damn thing and it seemed to vary between the two heats of “Surface of the Sun” and “The Deepest Depths of Hell”. She had, however, managed to make some of the best fucking cookies the boys had ever had - and they had each had a lot of cookies in their days. Mom cookies didn’t stand a leper’s chance at the PlayBunny mansion next to Jarka’s cookies. These were Kai’s cookies.
Unfortunately she had make a paltry four hundred eighty three cookies in addition to a number of other baked goods which seemed to teem and flow from the edges of the table like some kind of living wave of confectionary delight. There were around ten thousand men, women and children at the rally. There were not enough cookies.
Hati had managed to steal a good handful and Skoll had bought exactly two and one half before the devastation of the cook’s love child began. Sigfried was too busy quivering in terror as the onslaught began to really make much motion on them, but he did have exclusive rights to the crumbs that were left in the crevasses of the table.
Roy had planned on opening his speech after the bake sale had gone on for a little while, and, being that he had only briefly mentioned the sale in his latest interview, he had not expected such a turnout. It was phenomenal. If they could call these numbers forth from the cracks in the walls imagine the power they could wield with a rallying call to arms? Even Roy was shocked at the amount of snowball fanaticism they had garnered. It was terrifying. It was an awesome pride and fear that crept up from inside him. The fear that comes when you see your very deepest aspirations coming true. That creeping agony that crawls through your heart when you are almost afraid of yourself.
There he stood, alone in front of that wall of men and women. His voice was filtered through a microphone and through a pair of massive loudspeakers that, for once, he wished could actually turn up to eleven. The crowd roared until his lips parted, and, like a cackling clan of hyena when the lion spoke his mind, they fell suddenly silent.
“We have gone on too long alone, people of Earth.” His crystal blue eyes searched the faces of the people that followed him. “This is not an issue of Central City… or West City… or South City, this is an issue of mankind. This is no longer something we should ignore. This is no longer something we can ignore.” His voice was calm and slow, a solemn difference to his usual energy and vigor. The crowd gazed up upon him like doe in the headlights of a monstrous semi.
He suddenly exploded with energy, his voice booming like the voice of Kai. “Look at us!” He waved his hand over the people dramatically. “We wouldn’t be here if it were not for our fear. Yes! I said it! We. Are. AFRAID!” His hands gripped at the podium as he leaned in, a furious expression on his face. Voices murmured in the crowd, tones too low to challenge his verbal might.
He nodded softly and paced back and forth slowly before returning to the mic.“Why shouldn’t we be? How can we ignore the problems that are facing us anymore?” He joust his index fingers about the crowd seemingly randomly, but his presence dipped and flowed back down to sooth the minds of the jostled populace.
“What have they done for you? The government.” He wiped his hair back as several strands had come loose in his fervor. “What have they done for us? The entire purpose of a government is to provide for the people what they cannot provide for themselves. We are more than capable of providing ourselves with inaction. Is that what you pay your taxes for? Is that what you vote for and go through every forsaken year we live under this cabinet?”
He shook his head slowly and his voice dropped so low the microphone barely picked it up. “I didn’t think so.” The crowd’s whispers slowly grew to the howls of a wild horde. People flailed and threw things into the air as madness slowly overtook them. Roy was forced to slowly wave his hand to quell them and allow his speech to move onward.
He closed his eyes and dipped his head slowly, looking at his shoes in what might be seen as shame or disappointment. “No, that’s not why we follow them anymore. We follow the people up top because that’s the way it’s always been. Because that’s just ‘how it works’.” He threw up petulant finger quotations around his statement. “Is… is that what we deserve? I was once told by a wise man that, ‘Every nation deserves its government’.” He stared at the people as though to challenge them to disagree. “That’s right, we deserve this. We deserve it because we have done nothing to change it.”
Those cool blue eyes seemed to sear with fury now as he stared out across the people. “Well I think it’s time we change. I think it’s time for us to move onward and upward and through this invasion the way that we know we have to. The way we know we should because lives are at stake. Not arlian lives, not namekian lives, not frostlings or saiyans, but human lives. Your neighbors, my neighbors. They’re dying up there. They are being killed to keep Capsule Corporation’s assets safe!” He pounded his fist into the wooden frame that demonstrated his right to speak. “That’s not right! It’s not right to let our sons and daughters, husbands and wives suffer for people that would not lift a hand or claw to help us.” Once again the devil arose from the throats of the people in true motivated agreement.
He chuckled softly to himself and shook his head. “Have no doubt in my thankfulness to their service. That is what makes us human, our desire to help. Our yearning and calling to lift helping hands for those who need it.” He threw his hands up in the air and turned slightly, as if to show his agendas were not beneath his arms. “I don’t blame them! Who would? But my point is this,” he leaned in and poked his head out over the crowd as though he spoke to a long lost friend. “Why not here? Why not in our homes and cities? Are we not good enough for the Earth to defend?”
He sat and stared, making eye contact with each of the rabble below him.“No, no… I say we are.” He pointed down sternly to the people who gazed, mesmerized by his impassioned words. “I think it’s time you let them know you agree.”
With that he turned and began to stride away from his stand as a thunderous roar arose behind him. A man with soft brown hair, a dark suit and a crisp, passionate voice had alit rage in the heart of Earth. If the aliens were to scan the planet’s thermal signature you might think that the molten part was not at the core of the planet but rather dead center of Central City as the flames and spite began to roll from the mouths of the civilians who had felt so wronged. Memories of pointless, corporate-driven wars floated to the top. Ancient scars of twisted television shows and rampaging lunatics were uncovered from their hiding places and born with hate.
A riot did not start. It was not the city streets and businesses with which they were angry. No cars deserved to be flipped. No, these people headed home and to work and to their lives with a new sense of awakening. No longer able to close their eyes, Roy Munin had undone decades of brainwashing from television and news and lies. All the careful work of the overseers and the panderers and the ones who “knew what was best”.
It didn’t take long after. It was the first true crowd and the first truly inspiring speech that the campaign had to offer, and it had twisted heads on their shoulders. The people had begun to organize. They had begun to speak up on their own. Quickly news and radio was drowned in the voices of the unsatisfied. Talks that Roy should take a lead in the new cabinet were not uncommon. That he should be elected for office.
Some though, saw that Roy’s words were to call the people to revolt. To tear the system from its roots and bury the carcass under the foundations of a new republic of Mankind. Death bristled under their skin and threatened to protrude out and engulf their bodies and minds. They had been those of a similar mind as Sigfried, those who fought the invasion because they had tasted no purpose in life.
Others simply followed the pretty face and golden voice as they had done a thousand times before, this time with the added benefit of believing they heard the truth.
Such a strange time indeed for Earth when it was within their best interest to destroy themselves in a time of war. Even stranger when the people followed what was best for them. They made ready the weapons of their hearts and awaited to falling of the gates.
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]