Devil May Cry [Raf]

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Ed woke up this day just like most any other day, staring at the ceiling and blinking a few times. Then he appreciated the roof over his head and the lack of insects accompanying him. He sat up and stared out the small window next to the foot of his bed. The sun was just starting to peek out over the horizon, a few stripes of orange making their ways through the trees. A large purple aura replacing the black of night slowly. The floorboards creaked slightly as Ed put his weight down and stood up, sluggishly wiping his hand down the left side of his face. He opened his eyes wide to try and gain a bit more consciousness as he headed down the narrow hallway toward the latrine clearing his throat as he pushed the door open. McMillan tuned on the ancient faucet and splashed some water on his face, exhaling deeply as he stood up and cleared his sinuses.

As Ed made his way back to his room to get dressed he was stopped in the hallway. "Message for you sir."[/i] were the words that echoed through the chamber. Ed looked over at the errand boy then at the envelope. Sealed with wax and the stamp of the Totenkopf. Ed just nodded to the young lad who turned and walked away. The worn out springs in his lumpy mattress squeaked under his mass as he slumped back down with the envelope in his hand. He slowly broke the seal and pulled out the single piece of paper inside.

[shadow=grey,right,10]My office.[/shadow]

Was all that was written on the paper. Ed recognized his commander's handwriting easily and it helped wake him up a bit. He folded his hands together and stretched his arms, cracking his knuckles and then reached for his undershirt. After pulling over his torso, he ran his fingers through his hair and looked around for his socks. A few quick pulls and he was on to his boots, his dress boots. They were exactly the same as the ones he wore in the field, but he only wore them around the instillation, kept a decent shine on them and hid the muddy and broken-in pair in his locker. He tugged them over his feet an rotated his ankle slightly to put the leather carriers in place. Ed stood up and tucked his shirt in while snagging his belt from the foot of his bed, feeding it through the loops and fastening it promptly. He picked his jacket off the hanger, grabbed his hat and headed out the door.

McMillan made a slight detour to the chow hall, picking up a pair of pastries and a coffee. With a few large bites he choked down the first pastry and headed for the door. Headquarters was only a short walk down the road and the note had struck him as a bit odd, he wasn't going to waste Rafael's time. The brisk walk in the morning air did him good, and the sun was raising higher into the sky. McMillan paused only once to allow a kabelwagen to pass before the crossed the road and onto the walkway leading toward HQ. He wiped his mouth to be sure and pushed through the doorway. "I've been summoned to Sturmbannführer Wolfram's office." The man at the desk nodded and pointed Ed down the hall, but he was already headed that way, he knew the building well enough.

Edward stopped momentarily a few feet from the door. He placed the coffee and the second pastry on a nearby table and straightened his jacket and give himself a quick once over in the mirror. He took the items back from the table and stepped toward the door. Not once had any thought crossed his mind as to why he had been called for, or why Rafael wanted to see him. Even though the process was strange, Edward did not question his commanders orders. He did what he was told and never asked. He trusted his commander and knew that every action he made, every command he gave was for the advancement of the unit. Never had he once made a decision that Ed could not at least vaguely see as having a desired outcome. For that, Wolfram got all of Ed's faith, all of his loyalty. It was unquestionable to say the least, he would have followed the man into hell and kicked open the gates. With a swift couple of knocks he entered the commander's assistant's office. "The Sturmbannführer is expecting you, go on in."[/i] Came from the man's voice who only glanced at Edward before returning his focus to his small task. Ed nodded none the less and stepped through the doorway, closing it behind him.

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

OOC: For the first time, I will be writing Wolfram’s dialogue in English, but obviously will be spoken in the native German tongue in-character.


The morning had been crisp, light and breezy for most. The angle of the rising sun cast a vast array of burning light across the SS-Sturmbannführer’s petite, yet grand office and the unbearable glare magnified by the pale of the thick window glass impaired the SS-Sturmbannführer’s eyesight when attending to document matters strewn across the surface of his mahogany desk. His left eye had already sustained enough damage from a botched assassination attempt, he least he required was to have the reticules at the back of his eyes singed by the thawing daylight streaming through his window and blinding him silly.

Irritably, SS-Sturmbannführer Wolfram took to his feet and traced his legs around the corner of his mahogany desk, making a full stride towards the office window. Fussing with the Roman-blind’s tassels to draw it down a few notches, he soon became distracted by the lonesome figure of SS-Sturmscharführer McMillan briskly walking across the courtyard. The letter requesting his summoning to the office had been sent out ten, maybe fifteen minutes prior; SS-Sturmscharführer McMillan was running nicely on time, as always. Watching the non-commissioned-officer with a keen stare from his position at the window, SS-Sturmbannführer Wolfram recounted the thought of what he was going to ask the SS-Sturmscharführer to do for him. It wasn’t a task to be taken lightly and was more on par with using the SS-Sturmscharführer’s rudimentary killing abilities and loyalty to his own will and justification. A deadly combination the SS-Sturmbannführer was toying with and something he wouldn’t dare attempt lightly, not without reason or cause. This cried for both however.

As SS-Sturmscharführer McMillan disappeared from sight, he snapped from the deep thought and picked-up where he had left off with the blind. Knotting the tassels to the Roman-blind in one of his hands, he yanked it sideways to unlatch the locking mechanism to the blind and drew the beige sheet down over the window, locking it back into place roughly halfway down. The sun’s glare had been reduced immensely and although the office had been shaded with a refined notion of darkness, it nonetheless remained bright enough inside of the office for one to see just perfectly fine and carry on with their daily routine.

Turning his back to the window, SS-Sturmbannführer Wolfram paced towards the front of his desk once more and slide together a pile of documentation laying upon the surface of his desk, stacking them together and picking them up. Turning to the grey steel filing cabinet looking rather awkward in the corner of the room, he opened the middle draw midway down and packed in the documentation to be archived safely away, perhaps for a rainy day? Pushing the draw shut, he stood straight and opened the top draw on the filing cabinet, filtering through the storage system and withdrawing SS-Sturmscharführer McMillan’s personal file. Slamming it shut soon after, he dropped the file onto his desk and turned to face the doorway; his assistant just outside spoke briefly to the presumed SS-Sturmscharführer just arriving and SS-Sturmbannführer Wolfram moved quickly to the doorway of his office as it just opened.

Facing Edward directly, the SS-Sturmbannführer broke a wry grin and immediately pushed shut the door behind him as soon as he’d stepped into the office. Extending his arm outwards towards the desk he spoke brief within the moment “Take a seat SS-Sturmscharführer, we have much to discuss” and without anything else being added, SS-Sturmbannführer Wolfram moved towards his desk at the same time and stood before it, reaching across and grabbing a small silver encased box, pivoted with four little regal design feet, so it stood with grandeur atop of the desk. Picking it up, he swept back the heavy solid-silver lid and extended the open box forwards to his seated guest, offering him a fine cigar. “Smoke?” he offered, before placing the heavy silver cigar box back down onto the desktop. “Please, use the lighter on my desk” he said openly, gesturing towards a oval and large petrol lighter in the form of a chess-piece, a white-kin. A novelty lighter, yet once again grandeur upon the desk.

Withdrawing a cigar for himself, he leaned back against the front of his desk and stood before the SS-Sturmbannführer who would have been seated just to the side of him and before himself. Reaching over the desk once more, he slid the SS-Sturmbannführer’s personal file over to rest beside his body on the desk and flipped open the cover of the folder to reveal plenty of white documentation inside. Biting the needless end off his, he toyed with the large fine tobacco leaf bundle between his fingers and skimmed his eyes over Edward’s file briefly, before placing the cigar onto his lips and withdrawing a small ten-match packet of matches he’d picked up from a hotel in Berlin. Ironically, he lit his cigar with a single match, opposed to the grand cigarette lighter upon his desk and waved out the match flame thereafter, dropping the singed little piece of wood onto his desk.

Puffing on the cigar a few times, he lit the tobacco within and glanced to the SS-Sturmscharführer, readying to speak once more. “You have an almost impeccable record SS-Sturmscharführer McMillan, seems a bit ironic that only I could have bested you. Yet, we sit before one another and speak like old friends now” he said with a slight glimmer of a faded smile, returning his gaze back down to the file resting upon his desk to read once more. “Is it true that you declined a commission, SS-Sturmscharführer?” he questioned firstly, looking rather insulted that the SS-Sturmscharführer may have declined such an honour, but would have understood any reasoning why it would have been declined. SS-Sturmscharführer McMillan was a soldier and had been dragged through the ranks having fought teeth and bone to get there, a sudden commission would have been daunting for any non-commissioned-officer to take up instantly. Still, he would have liked to hear the man’s reasons why he declined?

Waiting for the SS-Sturmscharführer’s response, the SS-Sturmbannführer hoped the small-talk would break the ice a little between them both and the non-informal demeanour he was posing, would hopefully give a relaxed atmosphere. SS-Sturmbannführer’s Wolfram was going to be giving SS-Sturmscharführer McMillan serious orders soon enough and not the typical ordinary orders either. If anything, he was going to be manipulating the man for his own endeavours. It had nothing to do with the war effort or treachery to the Reich! It was for all simple purpose, an errand he needed doing.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Edward wasn't expecting the Sturmbannführer to be right in front of him when he stepped into the man's office, almost startled him, almost. Rafael offered the man a seat and Edward accepted. It was quite a nice chair to be on the wrong side of a desk. Completely leather and embroidered with the seal of the SS, not the mention the blackened wood for arm rests that had been carved into eagle heads at the end. McMillan took the seat gently, feeling as though if he were to cause any damage to the chair that it would require all of the money in his mattress, so to speak, to replace it. The commander offered him a fine cigar as well which he graciously accepted. "Thank you very kindly sir." Was his reply as he pulled out a small pocket knife, placing the tip of the cigar between the blade and his thumb, with a gradual twist a small piece of the cigar popped off and Edward placed it in his pocket. Even the lighter was immaculate, weighing more than a grenade. Edward carefully pulled open the lid and struck it only once, a small orange flame emerged and a few puffs later the cigar was in business.

Ed listened to the Sturmbannführer's words as he spoke of his performance on the battlefield and his only retreat to Wolfram himself. "Sir, if I may? I do not see the irony in it at all. You bested my efforts and you are the leader of this grand unit. I feel that things are the way they should be. Not that I am trying to correct the Sturmbannführer, but had I been the victor that day, the irony would have been in still deciding to follow you, sir. Also given what all we put one another through in the old days, speaking like old friends fits the bill rather well." Edward's gaze drifted off slightly hoping his commander saw the compliment in his words that could have all too easily been taken the wrong way. After a short moment Rafael then brought up another issue, McMillan's denial of a commission. Edward pursed is lips slightly as he nodded almost feeling as if he had been caught committing a crime.

Ed cleared his throat calmly before he responded. "Yes sir, that is correct. I feel that even though my superiors could see the abilities within me, that refining them into those of a true leader would be something best suited from my current position, instead of attempting to do so while actually being in such a high leadership position. I only wanted to ensure that I had all available tools at my disposal instead of trying to pick them up along the way and costing unnecessary losses in the process. That and I am still fit for front line duty a little while longer. I'm not getting any younger sir, and I wanted to make sure that all my energy was in the right place." McMillan paused momentarily to swallow the saliva that had built up before finishing his statement. "I do believe that my superiors were making the right call in offering me a commission, I believe I have what it takes to become a true leader. Soon enough these old bones will not be able to recover like they used to and that will be the day I send out more orders than bullets. I do feel that day is closer than I'd prefer."

Edward had said a mouthful and a half. More than what was required of anyone of a lesser rank when addressing their superiors. However Edward had agreed to join the SS so long as he could learn from Rafael. Given the lack of that happening Edward almost felt a bit like he was owed at least a few minutes of his commander's time. Not that he would ever ask for them or seek them out by any means. Edward considered himself a soldier's soldier. He did what he was told to the best of his abilities, tried to never engage in conversations that could lower morale or become detrimental to the integrity of the unit. He never asked for much more than ammunition, water, a few bandages and a few hours rest when things were calm. A few minutes couldn't be too much to ask for from a man he so passionately followed for so long.

[∬: Rafael Z. Wolfram]

Puffing on the cigar and listening intently to SS-Sturmscharführer McMillan speak of their past history together, having probed down that avenue with the sly comment about being the only one to best the SS-Sturmscharführer and perhaps remind the SS-Sturmscharführer subliminally who the dominant one was between the two slyly, he grinned thereafter to himself as SS-Sturmscharführer McMillan relished a decorative compliment to his sly remark and beckon his loyalty so forth to the SS-Sturmbannführer. The compliment was definitely recognised and expected by SS-Sturmbannführer Wolfram, he just wondered if things had been different, whether the two would have taken the same paths they chose and whether they would currently be before one another within their present moment talking idly like old school buddies. He doubted it, but the notion of what could have been different was interesting nonetheless.

The topic of conversation soon drifted to the SS-Sturmscharführer’s decline of a commission and SS-Sturmbannführer Wolfram listened even more intently to the reasoning behind it all. Puffing on the cigar squeezed between his two fingers, SS-Sturmbannführer Wolfram quirked a curious look as Edward attempted to explain himself entirely. A simple “I didn’t feel as though I was ready” would have sufficed or even a mere “I didn’t want the commission” would have been honourable enough to the SS-Sturmbannführer simply for the brute honesty. As the SS-Sturmscharführer outlined his own weaknesses if he were to have taken the position and how he would have preferred avoiding losses if he were to mess-up caused SS-Sturmbannführer Wolfram to cringe inside himself. He wasn’t cringing at the man’s choice of denial to be a leader amongst men, his choice was his own, but he was cringing within himself that SS-Sturmscharführer McMillan regarded himself no more than a grunt, someone who didn’t have the leadership abilities required to make a fine officer. None of that was true.

Allowing SS-Sturmscharführer McMillan to finish, SS-Sturmbannführer Wolfram soon nipped the situation in the bud, not entirely wanting to hear a more than capable young officer before himself speak so lowly of the abilities he already has refined within himself to offer for the Reich. “SS-Sturmscharführer… Edward” he started, breaking the formality of their meeting as he addressed the non-commissioned officer before himself by first name terms. “Every leader encounters losses, acceptable losses for every battle, operation or mission handed down from above” he said calmly, outlining that all the finest leaders were not impeccable or impetuous to the loss of war. “You have the abilities to be a great leader Edward, I would not have allowed for such a honourable promotion to be given if I felt otherwise. I have seen you fight, I have seen you bode your loyalty to the Reich by any means necessary” he paused briefly recounting the memory of the SS-Sturmscharführer shooting his own tank-crew in cold blood to follow his lineage to the Reich. “I have also seen men look up to you. I look up to you” he said with a stern tone, staring Edward down almost, not wanting the man to think he were of little use to the class of officers, when the SS-Sturmbannführer believed otherwise, completely.

Nodding a little, he smiled to himself and took a puff on his cigar once more, thinking it were wise to change the subject. The SS-Sturmscharführer needed to see the qualities for himself, it was not his place to change the man’s mind for him, as much as he vowed for him to take the promotion and embrace the honour of the decoration, promotion. “Edward, I summoned you for a reason…” he started with a quietness to his voice, almost wondering whether he should continue with what he had planned, but knew it would be futile to think otherwise, the plan had to continue, everything had to continue as premeditated. “I have a special operation handed to me by the Gestapo and this requires immediate handling. It is also strictly eyes only, off the record and I needed someone with the ability to get the job done. I chose you” he said with an affirmative tone, pausing to look at Edward and puff on the cigar casually, his red crimson eye glistening devilishly behind the plume of smoke billowing from out of his mouth. “Can I rely on you - Edward?” he questioned, needing to know if he was in or out before he continued to unravel the mystery of the operation to be undertaken.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Edward sat very still as he listened to Wolfram speak highly of McMillan. Edward was not the type to let such comments go to his head, but Rafael's words had always carried weight with him. The compliment he had been given was grand, and it did start his day off very well. He patted himself on the back on the inside and continued to listen to his commander.

Ed nodded ever so slightly as the Sturmbannführer redirected the conversation back to the task at hand. When Edward heard that this assignment was sensitive in nature and that it had come from the Gestapo he cringed slightly. McMillan had never held the Gestapo in the highest regards. They had checked in on him from time to time, and his run-ins with them that were not planned always made him feel like they were bullies, throwing their weight around where ever they felt like and it didn't matter whop was in the way, civilian, criminal or soldier. None the less it was a special task that Wolfram was asking and Ed would stand by his commander until his legs gave out. "With the utmost gratitude sir, I will carry out any duty you ask of me, no matter the severity or the discretion of the issue." Edward did not mention his distrust for the Gestapo for a reason, everyone had their opinions and in the military you kept them to yourself and did your job. That and the Gestapo had a way of getting pretty much whatever they wanted and no one batted an eyelash. Ed thought himself a force to be reckoned with, but even he was not foolish enough to mess with the Gestapo.

Edward paused for a moment, his eyes locked onto the corner of the room passed his superior, nothing caught his eye, he was wrapped in a thought. "Sir, if I have any room to make such a request. I do ask that this task not keep me from my men if they are mobilized. Not that I fear their well-being in the hands of another commander, that is not the case at all. Nor do I feel I am better used in combat, on the contrary, I feel my best use is where I am told, I'd like to think there is not a mission I cannot adapt to and I relish the chance to become a more well rounded soldier. However I have grown close with a good number of them and their livelihood being at risk could become a slight distraction. Not saying that is a definite, but with a task that seems to be as important as this one, I do not wish to risk the chance of my focus becoming corrupted." Edward puffed on his cigar lightly a couple times. "I neither want them to become complacent, but they have been in the thick of combat almost every time the chance has come up. If it isn't a lot to ask sir, could they be allowed some personal time to rest and mend their wounds, maybe even visit a family member or two while I tend to this matter? Would keep them out of sight and possibly avoid questions as to where their leader is, sir."

Edward always felt odd speaking to Rafael, it was because the Sturmbannführer was the only person Ed fully and truly respected within the unit. Wolfram intimidated Ed and because of such he had a tendency to ramble on. His intentions were pure and only in the best interest of the unit as a whole. He did not feel his men had earned any special treatment even though they had always preformed to his expectations or higher, but he did not want any rumors to start if his platoon was seen for extended periods of time without guidance.