ArchivedLogs:Vignette - Latveria Rises Anew

Vignette - Latveria Rises Anew
"I am Doctor Doom!"
Dramatis Personae Doom	2013-04-12 Victor van Doom addresses the European community.
Location Brussels, Belgium
Rhythmic metallic clanks and heavy thuds land against the comparatively weak parquet floor. The confident stride carries the towering steel man at a quick pace, feeling as at home within the walls of Espace Léopold in Brussels as he was on the battle-ravaged plains of Latveria. A circle of journalists surround him and follow him at a significant distance, as though an aura held together by an unseen force. Microphones and recording devices are desperately stretched outward to cover the distance their owners are not willing to cover themselves. Victor van Doom makes no attempt to acknowledge them, steadily moving forward to attend the summit. The crowd disperses like a pearl necklace hitting the ground when Doom passes through to the main chamber where the European Parliament awaits. Just two weeks ago, the autonomous region known as Latveria had claimed independence from Hungary. Throughout this year’s winter, the initially infrequent appearances of a caped steel-clad man were laughed off as a desperate attempt made by the resistance to invoke symbolism. The matter became less humorous when this unknown variable organised the scattered resistance and together began successfully liberating one settlement after another, all the while shrugging off gunfire and equipping the rebels with strategic superiority. Each day, Doctor Doom proved to be scarily able, and although his ultimate goal seemed noble, his callous perseverance was unsettling. After all, good-aligned individuals throughout history have strived to do well via protocols, law or enlightenment. Doctor Doom achieved victory through sheer force, despite miraculously avoiding killing so much as a single man. Quite the contrary, one of the more popular footage on the Internet is Doctor Doom’s army arriving at the governmental building in Latveria’s capital. The last few remaining soldiers form a formidable line before Doctor Doom and his band of merry rebels. Rather than fight, however, the soldiers reluctantly lower their guns and split their formation in the middle, creating a hallway for the leader of the resistance to step through. What came after was found in the news – although Doctor Doom had promised he would not harm the Hungarian leaders of Latveria, he also did not stop the rebels from lynching the politicians. That was perhaps the crucial point that revealed that there is more to Doctor Doom than meets the eye. Worse yet, all in Latveria were infatuated with him. Now, Doctor Doom stood in front of the European community. It is not just the leaders he was about to address, but the whole of Europe and indeed the world. The legalities were all but completed, and now all that was left was to make a public statement. He had no papers ready. He didn’t need them. When he began to speak, his voice boomed with the artificial aid, digitised background noise outlining his every word; the speakers were off – the microphone was only on to transmit his voice to television. His accent was hard to place, although it bore similarity to the Dutch sort. "The Romani people were ostracised and despised for centuries. They have suffered mockery, disdain, racism, bigotry and humiliation. Missing purse? The gypsies stole it. Dying husband? The gypsies cursed him. These peaceful nomadic people were to blame for every slight and wrongdoing humanity has suffered. Universal hatred has caused them to band together on an as of yet unclaimed land. They would name it Latveria and let all of their people know that they have found a haven. But fortune has lied to them. Suleiman the First expanded the Ottoman Empire into the Balkans in the 16th century. Among the claimed lands was Latveria. Suleiman deemed it so insignificant that he made it part of Hungary. And so it remained even after the mighty Turkish Empire crumbled and a new one rose in its stead, the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Time raced forward. An imperial dynasty fell, a world succumbed to war, another empire crumbled and, in the Treaty of Trianon in 1920, Hungary lost 71% of its territory. And yet Latveria remained within the measly 19%. For the rest of the twentieth century, Hungary continued its economic growth. Over half of it came from Latveria’s natural resources and an easily oppressed nation that was starting to forget what freedom was. Families slaved away in the mines until they expired, while taxes and levies were raised each year. Latveria was suffering from terminal cancer, and that cancer was Hungary. The tumour was five centuries in the making. My existence was premeditated by a level of injustice and corruption so great, that the universe itself beckoned me into being. I am Doctor Doom, and under my watch Latveria shall not suffer another day. As the first monarch of Latveria, I will first establish a constitutional monarchy. I have already spent significant man- and machine power to rebuild the war-ravaged territories. I will reshape education to have twelve mandatory years instead of the previous eight. More schools will be built. But even more importantly, Latveria will be the first technologically advanced country with absolutely no interest in nuclear weaponry. Come Monday, I have planned a trip to the United States. During that time, I will demonstrate what technological marvel Latveria will come to possess in the months to come. Thank you for your time and consideration." As confidently as he strode to stand before the gathered politicians and diplomats of the European Union, so Doctor Doom steps down. The clunk of his armour penetrates the spacious silence of the chamber as he claims a seat, granting the free spot to the next representative to address issues regarding what sort of financial support Latveria can expect and voice the list of deadlines regarding the newly formed country's infrastructures. Throughout all that time, Doom is seated among worried suit-wearing politicians that awkwardly eye him now and again. The self-appointed monarch is unmoving, the armour concealing even something as subtle as breathing. This may have been the most awkward political gathering in a long while.