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|Motto: Deprimo in sempiternitas
(English: Silence in perpetuity)
|Anthem: Somewhere, Out There
|Recognised regional languages||1337|
|Government||Stratocratic penal colony, cargo theocracy|
|-||He That Sent Us Here||Weareteh Snossarmy Thatshere (deity-like figure/savior, not an actual being, leader de jure)|
|-||Priest General of the Army||Gen. Lonely1|
|-||First expats arrive; isolation begins||1920|
|-||Island forgotten, except for select few||1930|
|-||Generations begin to forget the past||1945|
|-||Militarization of all life||1961|
|Drives on the||Neither, they use TANKS|
Johnfrum Internment Island, or simply Johnfrum, is a top secret island, once annexed into Snowzerland but now up for dispute. They are extremely militant, to the point of being a true stratocracy, that is, a nation ruled entirely (and legally/constitutionally) by the military, barring civilians from participation.
Everyone in Johnfrum Island has either served in the military or helped on a top secret project, or a battle no one was supposed to ever know about. In a sense, Johnfrum Island is an island of exile. Most of the members are aged generals who possess information that no creature should ever know, or are creatures who, although low-ranked, can or should never be seen due to classified reasons. The creatures of Johnfrum Island are banned from ever leaving the island.
Almost a century of isolation has resulted in the nation being entirely militaristic. Culture has collapsed as the soldiers began losing their minds. Military life and customs are so ingrained into the society, to the point that there are no civilians. Civillian life does not exist, and since the founders of the island died out, the descendants have shifted the island's history into one that they are all training for a war against something they do not know and for someone they are unaware of.
Johnfrum was inhabited by nothing but natives until about 1920, when several top-secret soldiers and military scientists evacuated from what was then Olde Antarctica, having completed a top-secret project for a tribe of ancient nerds, with their help. From these soldiers, and future top secret projects (like this), came the Frumans. Breeding with the natives and fed by a steady one-way supply of expats for the next thirty years, the small island had a gradually rising population.
Until the contact of the Snoss, no one knew of its existence since 1930, and even after, only the top brass of Snowzerland and a select few with high clearance have even heard of the name. To this day, Johnfrum Island is where countries send their soldiers who have seen too much.
Swiss Ninja knew to invade this small island because of its military importance. With generations top secret scientists and generals come huge advantages in fighting, weapons, and intelligence. Swiss Ninja's huge army rolled over this small island like a rolling pin over cookie dough. The penguins of the island did not give resistance, thinking that their savior had come. Their military history was so ingrained into them that they submitted to SN's (seemingly) more powerful military.
Swiss Ninja actually abandoned plans to using the newly annexed Johnfrum as a military training base because they were too militaristic, even for him. He ceased directly governing the island. While the Fruman realm IS a Snoss colony, it's not touched by its master. The international community, therefore, considers them not to be a colony of Snowzerland.
However, the "Day of Mourning"- when the Snoss left and refused to take anyone with them -made the Frumans realize that the Snoss arrival was just a "test" of their hope. Deducing that the Snoss were part of their savior's army, they eagerly await the day that another legion of soldiers come, finally ready to take them to the battle that never was.
Nearly ninety years of isolation and no civilians has locked Fruman culture in a permanent state of military affairs. International observers, gleaning what they can from the sealed records and classified documents, have pieced together the general belief system of the Frumans, who, after ninety years of zero contact, have become a culture all their own, with no traces of their old beliefs.
The entire culture of Johnfrum Island is secrecy and militarism. Silence is golden, secrecy is perpetual, stability is paramount, loose lips sink ships, and chicks are to be seen, not heard.
Creatures that disobey their parents are swiftly punished, and the rigid order of the Frumans is so ingrained that it's scary. Bowing and handshakes are unheard of- only saluting -creatures ask for permission to enter and speak, and hierarchies are more powerful than the law. Officers are to be obeyed and not questioned, and everyone wakes up at dawn and goes to bed on curfew. Needless to say, the entire country is armed to the teeth.
Every day, the Frumans- of all ages and genders -go through their almost mechanical army drills, forever marching, waiting, and training, in hopes that they would be called back from their prison to serve whatever once commanded them. Without a leader and untouched from the world, this lonely island awaits an almighty general that will come. They believe that their general will one day return and bring them prosperity, and more importantly, a purpose in their lives: these are soldiers that can not fight because they have no enemy, and they feel hollow inside because of this.
Frumans believe that if they re-enact the behaviors and drills of both their ancestors (also being exiled creatures from the military) and of the one-time contact by the Snoss, their perpetual loneliness will cease, and at long last, their savior, "He That Sent Us Here", would come and lead them to the battle that they had been sent to Johnfrum Island to plan for, all those years ago.
The Frumans believe that building airstrips and aircraft, as well as putting their ancestors' knowledge to use, will call back their savior. Due to this, every building looks like a prefabricated barracks, or a nuclear research plant, or an air hangar, ect. If it is in the military from any time from Khanzem to the Snoss Wars, the Frumans have, in some way, built it.
The knowledge from the scientists and generals that were exiled to Johnfrum Island was never lost, but rather, ingrained as "basic knowledge" that all Frumans needed to know. Nuclear passwords are sung like the "ABCs", tank maintenance is literally chicks' play, and if anyone wants to pass a class, they'd better know how to use a gun and march in order.
In Fruman schools, there are no language arts, social studies, and the only math used is for fixing machinery, aiming, and nuclear upkeep, as well as how to calculate what weapon to use for where and to what effect, ect.
As such, Fruman chicks can't grasp the concept of "2 + 2" or the times tables, but they can explain how to aim a tank shell and fire it anywhere it needs to go, which is something most don't learn until college. This is out of necessity, of course, because their entire culture is wrapped around the iron rule of the military, and everyone needs to know everything that managed to escape rotting away into history.
Speaking unless spoken to gets a caning.
Naturally, when the soldiers and such fled, they took their technology with them. There are rumors that at least one of every weapon, and even two XXX missiles were left on that island, lovingly guarded by the cult-like behavior of the Frumans.
This technology is still on the island and still maintained by the ritualistic Frumans. They think that, by maintaining and repairing these weapons, they will hasten the arrival of their savior/leader. Eyewitnesses say it is very entertaining to watch them fix things, because they fix things as if it was some sort of worship experience. There are candles, robes, items made from scrap that look like various military things, and war paint (literally, paint that looks like old war symbols).
In the nuclear silos, for example, maintaining the machinery and fixing, say, a loose bolt, involves a procession of rod-bearing "priests" of sorts, followed by marching soldiers with various period guns, a penguin assigned to hold the repair item (e.g. a wrench) on a velvet pillow, and lastly, the mechanic himself or herself, carried upon the backs of four other soldiers, all marching with the unison that only a military can deliver. They also seem to chant a sort of babbling language that sounds like a blur of English, Snoss, Latin, German, and Pengolian in their drills.
This ritual has made sure that every weapon is in perfect working order. If they wanted to- they won't, but in theory -they could launch their XXX anywhere in the world, because they have passed down the technology and knowledge by the generations. However, they will not, because they are saving these missiles for use by their savior.
If anyone owns a vehicle, that vehicle will be a tank. Since tanks were the only kind of machine with wheels that were sent with the exiled Frumans, that became their blueprint and their definition of a car. As such, every new "car" built was a tank of some kind, from some part of history, modified for maneuverability on roads.
Frumans actually call tanks "cars", so if a creature from that island wants someone to "climb into the car" or "man the car", they mean tank every time.
Fruman cuisine is almost entirely consistent of Meals, Ready to Eat (MRE), and water. In the rest of the continent, a MRE is used when rations or spaghetti are out. MREs are simple packets and trays that simply need to be shaken and then swallowed. Penguins swallow whole anyway, but the way MREs are designed, they just tilt their head and then tilt the MRE, and it's gone. That is fast, even for penguins. MREs taste awful to most penguins, but since the Frumans know nothing else, they enjoy it thoroughly.
Johnfrum Island is governed like a military; there are no civilians. Chicks are in the army when they hatch, and they begin on the lowest rank, climbing in their little society and on up the ranks based on merit. The military nature of this has placed male and female penguins as equals, so merit is the single method of determining who becomes a general and who stays a private.
The rank of "Priest General of the Army" is the highest rank in Fruman government, and he has command over all officers and soldiers under him, bound only by the codes of military justice.
However, the real leader is, de jure, a mystical being called Weareteh Snossarmy Thatshere. This is their savior.
- "When He That Sent Us is not present", Fruman belief says, "the Priest General shall assume Command of the Armed Forces and excercise all duties of office as he shalll see fit".
Weareteh is described as a "handsome, brown, loud five-star general penguin with a deep, booming voice, a mustache, and the ability to command any soldier with expertise". Weareteh, further, is said to be so amazing that "he need not wear a combat helmet, sufficing simply with a glistening crown". He also carries, according to Fruman myth, "a swagger stick that seems more like a scepter", and "a seemingly endless supply of loaded weapons", which he pulls out "from nowhere". (Frumans do not have player cards, because they did not see the technology as necessary and discarded it in favor of guns and stuff.)
The Frumans have believed in a coming savior since at least 1955, but before 2009, he was unnamed. The name "Weareteh Snossarmy Thatshere" is almost certainly the name because of the characteristic shout that SN's ego squad shouts when they reach landfall: "We are the Snoss Army, that's here to KICK YOUR BUTT; now bow, BOW to the great Kaiser, Swiss Ninja Hochstadt!!".
- Snoss Army
- Nuke Island
- Ninja Archipelago
- Snoss Army
- Philly Cheesesteak Test