#schnsvcht

@schnsvcht

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     … Oh, Volk’s tone changed quick. His eyes were filled with a fiery rage, and he rolled up his sleeves, popping his neck from side to side– that metal could be seen keeping his head on his neck, and his tone only grew more hate-filled. He had slipped right into German, and he… Moved so fast, it was quite literally inhumanly so.

     The gun was moved– pushed down to the ground, in mere seconds his weapons ripped from him, and… Well. Aimed right back to him. What the fuck did Volk just do?

    “ Do you know to whom you are SPEAKING to? ” Volkhardt was already near yelling in German, his eyes practically bloodshot. By God, if these men laid one more fucking hand on his beloved Vater– he’d pull those fucking triggers. “ Did you live under a fucking rock? I am Herr Überkommandant Volkhardt Armbrüster, leader of the highly-decorated Armbrüster Brigade and the first perfect super soldier. Now… how about, you listen to your superior, runt, and get him onto his feet, return his items… I’d recommend you stepping away. ‘Young one’. ”

     No one was going to hurt Ezekiel on his fucking watch. This man was, as he could remember, his father. And NO ONE hurt his father. But he’d have to hide that fact right now. Instead, he straightened his posture, scowling, eyes narrowing more and more… “ Get your boot off of him and I will make sure you do not experience the punishment I have planned for such acts against a superior! He is MY responsibility, NOT yours! Do you UNDERSTAND?! ”

     …Looks like Ezekiel got to see this side of Volkhardt, for once.

    It all happened after Volkhardt had practically just stopped looking at him, like he just blinked– but he was surprised. Had these soldiers not known who Volk was? After all, he knew the Regime would parade him and tout him about as their little trophy boy, as the ‘perfect super-soldier’. The ‘pure Übermensch’, the ‘Anti-Terror Billy’– and all of that, the way they used him for propaganda, scaring innocents and forcing him to hurt others… It made his blood boil. He despised it all. The way it tried to tout ‘blond-haired, blue-eyed German people’ as superior. But HOW were they superior? Everyone was the same! Everyone was equal.

     And he proudly continued to secretly fight back against the Nazis, in his own little ways. He just… needed to keep it going.

Ezekiel could barely understand the exchange, though he could tell from the tone alone just how heated things were getting. Although the reaction that followed was surprising to say the least, finding himself yanked hurriedly back to his by a suddenly rather terrified looking soldier who was now missing his weapon, apologising to Volkhardt frantically in his mother-tongue. Now that Ezekiel was on his feet, the trickle of blood running down from his left brow came into view. While it was far from being a serious wound, it was nevertheless indicative of the unnecessary force...

This was all then followed by a series of metallic clicks as the cuffs were released, before he found himself being practically thrown against Volkhardt. Good God, it took every last ounce of his strength himself from bundling him up right there and then! This was then followed by the rather mundane contents of his pockets, also handed to Volk; wallet, prayer book, rosary, a few coins, outdated train tickets - harmless, average stuff. 

A few more of what he assumed to be apologies stuttered out from the two soldiers that had accosted him (though again, all directed towards Volkhardt), before they started making a swift exit from the scene, one of them in such a hurry to leave that he had apparently forgotten that his weapon was still clutched in Volkhardt’s arms.

Ezekiel waited several uneasy moments. It felt like eons before the guards had finally vanished from view but the second they had, he turned hurriedly back to Volk, hands coming to rest on his cheeks as he frantically him over. 

“Oh, Volkhardt, I’m so sorry! Are you okay, did they hurt you???” With a shaken breath, he quickly pulled him into a hug.

“I’m so sorry, love, it was my fault, I had the prayer book in my pocket, I just- I completely forgot it was there…” In a place populated by militant nationalists, a prayer book with the Church Of England insignia embossed on the front was obviously not going to go down too well. And Ezekiel knew that. He knew better. He had simply been clumsy, careless in a moment of tiredness.

@schnsvcht asked:

" Herr Steven, was ist... es? " Came a German voice, pointing to a small container of fry-bits that he had.

"If you're asking what I think you are," he paused, turning to face the German man, "then I'd like to introduce you to a blast from my past, my favorite snack from Beach Citywalk Fries: the fry bits!"

~~

Souther understood every word this fraudulent little rat spoke. He was nothing to him-- nothing but a large mountain in the way of a god who will level it! A hard growl leaves his lips, his voice deep and groveling. Not much is said though, it was more of a groan that left him than actual words itself. Hell, If only this man knew his significance.

But his words seem to hit him where it hurts most.

In an instant, he spits a hard loogie in the super soldier’s face, a mix of blood an mucus hard enough to make the kids in the background shake with how veraciously quick it was. His sky blue eyes were laced with a sunset red-- could it be from the blood? Perhaps, but the children would like to think he was simply that transformative-- a beast, a thing to be feared. It was a good thing he had caught on. “You know nothing of me, Rotzlöffel!“ He screams, His voice guttural-- almost carnal in tone. “You know nothing of who I am really, do you? You haven’t a clue who I was, nor who my Father was. My father raised me the way he wanted me to be! You--You, are scum of the Earth. I am doing them a mere favor-- I am helping them stay in line! You? You would get blood on your hands in front of them.”

Beyond them, a small crowd of children huddled together far away. It was obvious to tell that they were horrified-- holding each other, trembling. Some have slash marks across their body, no doubt a dealing of what the guards had put on them before. Despite this, they looked at the two men with an equal look of pain and horror. Visible mumbles and crying could be heard among them; the perfect ammunition.

" NOW! "

// @schnsvcht

"HHGK--!"

The holy emperor squinted his eyes shut as he gazes upon the man before him. This...unknown man from an ancient land who he once called his own now making the man bend to his knees. This was embarrassing! This is asinine! This is absolutely revolting, this was!

Souther let out a hulking grunt of anger as he looked up.

"Don't you see? They do not know how to think for themselves, you welp...!"

The man's voice is garbled at best, but there is a aggressive magma bubbling up to the surface-- a mere volcano about to explode at any moment--!