Cell Phone:
Hello this is - - Valentine, is this functioning? What do I -- Do I just talk into the - okay, yes - right like this?

Hello. You have reached Hans Varner and I am unavailable to take your telephone call directly. If you would please leave your message I will get back to you very shortly. Thank you.



Email:
ourlostprophet@gmail.com (or leave an IC comment email comment below!)


AIM:
SN: Hans Varner

( OOC contact information )

Disclaimer:
Hans Varner is an original fictional character created and played by Laura Cushing (charisma) . This journal is used for writing and roleplaying purposes. No affiliation with any political parties, current or past, is implied - the player is not a Nazi, a Nazi sympathizer, or a neo-Nazi. The character is a former Nazi. This journal contains depictions of sensitive historical issues, same sex relationships, and occasionally somewhat graphic depictions. It is always my intention to present the historical content in a manner that is respectful and sensitive to those who lost their lives as a result of the circumstances of WWII. Please understand that no disrespect is intended in the depictions within.


Continuities:
As I am starting to play Hans in quite a few different places and scenarios, I thought I would make a note here of what his circumstances are where. I will likely also make separate tags for any stories that occur within a particular continuity that don't apply to the others.

charloft - This is Hans's main continuity. Almost everything posted here is relevant to his existence for the Charloft prompt community and roleplaying area. Time is current time here. Most of what he posts in other prompt communities falls in line with this continuity, too.

Mittiligart - This is a roleplaying game on Insane Journal where Hans is living in Iowa and working a deputy mayor in a strange small town. Time is... current-ish? A little behind current time.

our_last_resort A roleplaying game in which Hans is part of a movement to save the world from a supernatural empire. Time is near future, 2012.

Glitter Und Doom - A AU storyline in which Hans returned to Berlin in 1947, played out with Gabriel ( glitterunddoom ) over journals. Time is 1947.

Technicolor Life- AU storyline in which Marie-Pierre returned for Hans in 1943, and they escaped Germany to settle in South America with Stephane and Gretchen.


Other RP Communities:
sixwordstories - Though this place is kind of a drama pit, I occasionally post there with Hans - usually to interact with his friends in his charloft continuity. Anything else there's a good chance it's just crack and doesn't really fit in anywhere.

dear_multiverse- When I post here, it's with 2012!Hans from our_last_resort continuity more or less, though he seems to enter the Nexus through his dreams (and in that damnable uniform, as he puts it).


Prompt Communities:
charloft
64damn_prompts
justprompts
makeyourlist
our_magicplace
the_lucky13
theatrical_muse
writers_muses
worldundersiege



About The Character:
For more information about Hans, please see the following posts:

Timeline

Work History

(Still very much a work in progress- sections subject to change and update)

( Timeline! )

or perhaps




I avoid mirrors.

Would you rather live in the past or work towards the future?

December 24th, 1941

1.
Just this once, you will break the rules.

You light the candles in the garland, carefully arranged over the window sill. The paper flowers are cut by hand, your hand - as Stephane taught you. They are interspersed with fruits, oranges that you have found on the black market at a high price. These are part of your present to him, the rest being packages atop the piano. They were wrapped earlier this evening by your own hands - clumsy with your nervousness, each one in a scrap of colorful paper and ribbon. There are four.

( This is your life... )

Ordinary
I am very proud of my family.
I like to keep my house clean.
I have worked at a variety of jobs.
I like to play piano.
I enjoy dressing well.

Not-so-Ordinary
I am cursed.
I am a former SS officer.
I am homosexual.
I am a multi-millionaire.
I run a charity foundation.

5 Reasons you would never ask your friends for advice.
My particular situation is difficult to understand.
We do not speak of these things with friends.
Enduring problems is a solitary activity.
I would be unlikely to follow the advice.
I do not see my friends as frequently as I used to; it would be awkward.

4 Things you do with your money.
Run The Varner Foundation, a charity organization.
Pay for Valentine's college education.
Invest.
Pay bills / living expenses.

3 Reasons you should possibly see a shrink.
My past.
The OCD.
Nightmares.

2 Places you will never forget.
Dachau
Paris

1 Language you can speak
Occitan

In order of years, not severity:


Traded sex for money/food (1929)


Killed Polish soldiers in combat (1939)


Spoke of love for Marie-Pierre (1941)


Condemned numerous innocent prisoners to death (1942-1945)


Shot and killed lover (1944)


Escaped justice (1945)


Left sister and her family (1960)

They sit across the table from each other in the spotless kitchen, a cheerful bowl of fruit between them that neither reaches for. At ninety-five years of age, Hans Varner still looks thirty-two, old enough to be the boy's uncle as he claims, and not as he is in actuality a great-great-uncle. Two nephews before Valentine, and Hans can see echoes of each in the boy's messy blonde hair, his inquisitive blue eyes, the strength of his jaw. He can trace the line of that jaw all the way back to Gretchen, his own sister - who had a way of looking at him with that jaw set in such a manner that brooked no disagreement. It had been almost too severe in her otherwise angelic face - but it suits the boy, Hans thinks. Symbolizes, perhaps, his inner strength. The boy is stronger than he knows. Stronger than you give him credit for.

Valentine has prepared a list of questions, sitting in front of him in neat order, each meticulously detailed. These are questions primarily raised by the German class he is taking at Columbia - to learn of the culture, and his heritage as well as the language. Hans clears his throat, and inclines his head towards the paper. "Proceed with your questions, then."

The boy is nervous. He shuffles the paper from hand to hand, considering whether or not he has the questions out of order. Whether any of them are too personal, too prying to ask. He runs a finger down the side of the paper, chooses a point about halfway down the page to start. "Okay, um. How about this? Let's start with -- who was in your family growing up?"

( Read more... )

Unlike the International Military Trials in Nuremberg that prosecuted the major Nazi war criminals under the jurisdiction of the four Allied Occupying Powers, the Dachau tribunals were held exclusively by the United States Military between November 1945 and August 1948

All the hearings were held within Dachau because it was (at the time) the best known of the Nazi concentration camps.

During almost three years, the American Military Tribunals tried 1,672 German alleged war criminals in 489 separate proceedings. In total 1,416 former members of the Nazi regime were convicted. Of these the majority received death sentences and 279 were sentenced to life in prison. All convicted prisoners were sent to War Criminals Prison #1 at Landsberg am Lech to serve their sentences or to be hanged.

In addition, 520 (including 122 SS) were executed without trial in the liberation of Dachau on 29 April 1945. I was cursed for my war crimes on that same date.

There is no escape from justice.

"We are in this together," I say, and lift her face in my hands.

Her shame and fear near breaks my heart.

"You are not alone..."

"Hansel..." Gretchen pulls away, returns her eyes to the floor. " I am unmarried, and the poor child..." She touches a hand to her stomach, to the bastard child growing within. An unfortunate consequence of a forced encounter.

She loves the baby already. So must I.

Because I love my sister, I vow to love her child as well.

"The child has a mother. And an uncle," I assure her. "We will be fine."

I've given my characters a healthy dose of Veritaserum and now they have to tell the truth. What does this mean for you? Ask my characters questions about anything and everything and they will truthfully answer it. So, go ahead and ask Hans what you want. He can't beat around the bush with half-truths.

handyman's assistant - Berlin 1930

German army solider - 1936

SS-VT junior officer - Poland 1939

Sturmbannführer-SS - Paris 1941

Obersturmbannführer-SS - Dachau, 1943

repair shop owner - Crespo Argentina 1947

medical clerk - Villa General Belgrano Argentina 1951

drifter / odd jobs - San Fransisco 1967

piano teacher - NYC 1969

world traveler / odd jobs - 1984

town council - Nowhere Iowa 1992

deputy mayor - Nowhere Iowa 1999

ceo /chairman of charity foundation - NYC 2009

literacy / soup kitchen / community volunteer - NYC 2009

I would like to thank everyone who nominated Val, Hans, charloft, myself, and our friends for so many awards. Really makes me happy, even if we don't win anything, to know that folks thought of us at nomination time. Here's a list of what we are up for:


Section One:
none

Section Two:
Original Roleplay Muse of the Year - Lead character: heil_hans Hans!
Best roleplay community large - charloft
Best roleplay thread (less than four): http://deadwhitemale.livejournal.com/3584.html (Val and Ellis on the Christmas road trip!)
Best roleplay thread(four or more): http://vavarner.livejournal.com/53070.html (open mic night - Val, Ellis, Liam, Marcus, Chuck, Rosie, Spike, Ambria, etc)


Section Three:
Best prompt community large - charloft
Dark prompt response of the year - http://heil-hans.livejournal.com/43655.html Hans!
Emotional prompt of the year - http://community.livejournal.com/charloft/1135649.html - Val!
Original character prompt of the year- http://heil-hans.livejournal.com/40757.html Hans!

Section Four:
Historical star - heil_hans -Hans!
Good guy of the year -vavarner Val!
Nicest writer/roleplayer - charisma - me!

Section Five:
Team Gunfight - heil_hans (Team A) - Hans!
Pizza throwing - vavarner - Val!
Running from zombie killer alien demon kitties - (Team B) - vavarner - Val!


Also some of our wonderful friends are up for awards - please give your voting consideration to deadwhitemale, will_aurelius, zippyknowsbest, abbytude, sonofgranite, fey_fire, dien, rein_it_in, liam_did_it, verbal_vomit_1, marcusisazpaz

I am no artist - but the program with painting comes on my computer so I thought I would try and see what resulted.

( Random images that come to mind... )

"Take these," Bodenheim said, handing me a small packet of peppermints. I must have given him some sort of look, because he snorted and shook his head. "You officers. You never take anything at face value. For your stomach - you will need them. And the sugar will help keep your head."

Supposing him to know more about this business than I did, I tucked the packet into my shirt pocket. My uniform had already been taken from me - too risky that they would discover an Obersturmbannführer and ask questions otherwise. Instead I had donned a soldier's shirt- encrusted with the blood of a doubtlessly fatal wound. Blood a casual inspector would assume to be my own. The date is 26 April of 1945 - I am leaving Germany in a pine box, but very much alive. Bodenheim helps me in to the coffin, helps me fold my arms and situate my canteen. "Three days travel," he says grimly, perhaps wondering if I have been informed. I merely nod. Yes, three days. I am aware. "If there is time, at the night stops, someone will come and let you out so that you may stretch and get some air. Before then - try to relax yourself as much as possible." I definitely gave him a look that time. Relax. In a sealed coffin. There would be no such thing. "Right... you SS - you don't relax, do you? Heh. Well. Just do not panic. And the stench of corpses--- well, I suppose you are used to that too. But this will help." He leaned down into coffin, and pressed a perfumed handkerchief lightly over my nose and mouth. The weave was light enough to breathe through, but the scent of flowers was overpowering. I choked a little. "None of that now," he warned. "No noise. Not a sound."

Day 1
The lid has been sealed down, and the darkness is overpowering. There has never been a more suffocating blackness than in the confines of the box. There is air enough to breathe, I remind myself - they have seen to this, there are holes that let the air in. I must not panic. I close my eyes because I wish to pretend that if I chose to open them I would see something other than blackness. I feel myself thrown onto a train - and the stench, the familiar stench of death. The perfume makes it worse - flowers overburdening death, and then decay overcoming flowers. I reach for the first peppermint, and find it hard to maneuver my crossed arms - harder than I thought, already.The train begins to move.

how long has it been? the darkness... the movement - I have slept. How long? The train is still moving -my mouth is dry, my head is humming along with the rails. I take a sip from the canteen. My eyes are open, everything is black...

My muscles are cramping. I want to stretch - there is no room to stretch. I wiggle the small parts I can. Fingers, toes - shrug a shoulder and it reminds me of Marie-Pierre, of the the way he shrugged when there were no words. No words, no sounds - in the darkness and his picture one of the few things I have kept to take with me into this new life - and he is unreachable as he has ever been, even in photographic form I cannot touch him now. I drink from the canteen several times, worry it will run empty.


Day 2
The train has stopped sometime while I slept. There is a sudden tap on the lid. "Dornröschen?" a woman's voice calls. I think perhaps I am dreaming, but I remember- this is the signal.

"Hier Großmutter," I call back. The sounds of a prybar - the lid is lifted - I gasp air greedily. The woman and a man, dressed in civilian clothes both, help me out to my unsteady legs. I relieve myself from the side of the train. More water, more peppermints - a hunk of bread and cheese to eat quickly before my return into the darkness. "Not much food," says the woman, "you do not want to shit yourself in there." I laugh like this is the funniest thing in the world and the man gives me a sympathetic look. "Heil Hitler," he says as they lower me back in. I cross my arms rather than salute. The lid comes down. Darkness surrounds me again.

the train is moving again - I think of Yuri, of Gabriel - so many years past now, in Berlin. Friends long gone - one of them dead and the other? what became of him? was there a coffin for Yuri - I left him in the street and ran ran ran....

the darkness is choking me. there will not be enough air to last the rest of the day I know it... the corpses smell overpowering the stench of death clinging... I remember the gray ash that fell like snow at Dachau before the crematories broke down and we could only stack the corpses like wood - and now I am one of them. If I die here, who will know? if I die at all, who will mourn me....

Day 3
By the time they pull me out from three days in the belly of the beast, I am delirious - muttering, weak - I have soiled myself. They take me to recover at a farmhouse, clean me up and give me a decent meal and rest. "Leave the lantern burning," I rasp when the good Frau goes to turn it off. I will never again be able sleep in total darkness.

I will never again lie in a coffin, I determine then. Nor will I allow the crematory to take me. I will live. Live forever if I have to, to avoid these fates. I will live, and keep living - in South America, away from Germany. Have I not paid well for my escape - for my life, what wreck of a life remains? I have payed the price in money and continue to pay the price in blood some sixty years past that point. My last will and testament lies in the hands of my lawyers - and it states that in the increasingly unlikely event of my death, my body be donated to science. No coffin. No gray ashes to remain.

Type in the following and choose the first choice...

1: Type in "[your name] needs" in the Google search:
Hans needs help.

2: Type in "[your name] looks like" in Google search:
Hans looks like a bug in the logger.

3: Type in "[your name] does" in Google search:
Hans does not agree or disagree.

4: Type in "[your name] hates" in Google search:
Hans hates hybrids

5: Type in "[your name] goes" or "..has gone" in Google search:
Hans Goes Over the Top

6: Type in "[your name] loves" in Google search:
Hans loves her more than anything in the world!

7: Type in "[your name] eats" in Google search:
Hans eats World.

8: Type in "[your name] has" in Google search:
Hans has the worst case of Asperger's Syndrome I have ever encountered.

9: Type in "[your name] can" in Google Search:
Onkel Hans can't even tear apart a pretzel with his bare hands. What a weakling!

10: Type in "[your name] will" in Google search:
Hans will be back to his cute little self soon.

1. Nazi Germany, World War II, or any related topics.

2. Metody's religious practices, especially any involving affixing messy things to the walls.

3. Anything that will disturb Valentine's digestion (gory, nauseating, so on).

4. What new and disturbing things the cats have vomited, ingested or excreted lately.

5. World or national politics.

German Question Words
was - what
wer - who
wie - how
wieviel - how much
wann - when
wo - where
warum - why