*video post*
The video is one of amazing activity. The Major's control room is rushed with vampires dressed for war, scurrying about. Moving weapons, drawing plans, manning stations, everything is in full readiness for this moment.
The man himself stands with his back to the camera on a platform supported by a mechanical arm. He's watching an enormous bank of televisions flicker through information at a startling rate. Maps, video captures, stastics, all moving past at amazing speed. Anyone clever enough to actually watch it will realize there's nothing useful there. The flicker, the screens, the information is all a shell game. It plays out, to those familiar, the notes of "Horst Wessel Leid" in the morse code of the flickers.
The Major glances over his shoulder before taking a step back to turn.
His glasses catch the light and refuse to let go. Twin moons blocking the sight of his eyes. Somehow, though, this is a blessing. Little lie behind them but madness.
"It is almost time," he says, folding his arms behind him in an at ease position. "And I am more than certain you have used this time to build and prepare. To plan and to scheme. But we must hurry and finish the prelude, or the audience will begin to grow restless and bored. We simply cannot disappoint the audience, it just won't do.
"Now, I do understand. This event has been a long time coming, for some longer than you can even understand. And after so much anticipation, so much time, it can be frightening to finally see what you have been waiting for come. I understand, and I hardly condemn you for it.
"It is only natural.
"But, as the conductor, it is my responsibility to ensure the orchestra begins on time. So, with understanding and compassion, I have endavoured to find an additional incentive. Something to put the spurs to your sides so that we may fully begin."
He produces a remote and presses a button. Behind him, the bank of screens fuzz for a moment. Upon clearing, they have been split, vertically, into four seperate banks, each showing a different streaming live security feed. Four prisoners, strapped to tables, surrounded by vampires dressed for war. Their eyes glow the same blood red as they did in that fateful video.
"Captain Jack Harkness. Lelouch. Yuuki Kurosu. Reno. All four are in my custody. I have no real desire to wreck harm on them. But really."
He gestures to the side. The camera pans to show the rain-splattered windows of the Deus ex Machina II. Outside, the storm rages. Lightning splits the sky likes Thor's mighty hammer, and a deafning crash, like the fall of a shell.
"Can we afford to waste this perfect weather? When the skies themself provide percussion, I think it... insulting to not begin the symphony."
The man himself stands with his back to the camera on a platform supported by a mechanical arm. He's watching an enormous bank of televisions flicker through information at a startling rate. Maps, video captures, stastics, all moving past at amazing speed. Anyone clever enough to actually watch it will realize there's nothing useful there. The flicker, the screens, the information is all a shell game. It plays out, to those familiar, the notes of "Horst Wessel Leid" in the morse code of the flickers.
The Major glances over his shoulder before taking a step back to turn.
His glasses catch the light and refuse to let go. Twin moons blocking the sight of his eyes. Somehow, though, this is a blessing. Little lie behind them but madness.
"It is almost time," he says, folding his arms behind him in an at ease position. "And I am more than certain you have used this time to build and prepare. To plan and to scheme. But we must hurry and finish the prelude, or the audience will begin to grow restless and bored. We simply cannot disappoint the audience, it just won't do.
"Now, I do understand. This event has been a long time coming, for some longer than you can even understand. And after so much anticipation, so much time, it can be frightening to finally see what you have been waiting for come. I understand, and I hardly condemn you for it.
"It is only natural.
"But, as the conductor, it is my responsibility to ensure the orchestra begins on time. So, with understanding and compassion, I have endavoured to find an additional incentive. Something to put the spurs to your sides so that we may fully begin."
He produces a remote and presses a button. Behind him, the bank of screens fuzz for a moment. Upon clearing, they have been split, vertically, into four seperate banks, each showing a different streaming live security feed. Four prisoners, strapped to tables, surrounded by vampires dressed for war. Their eyes glow the same blood red as they did in that fateful video.
"Captain Jack Harkness. Lelouch. Yuuki Kurosu. Reno. All four are in my custody. I have no real desire to wreck harm on them. But really."
He gestures to the side. The camera pans to show the rain-splattered windows of the Deus ex Machina II. Outside, the storm rages. Lightning splits the sky likes Thor's mighty hammer, and a deafning crash, like the fall of a shell.
"Can we afford to waste this perfect weather? When the skies themself provide percussion, I think it... insulting to not begin the symphony."