The Major (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} warconductor) wrote,@ 2008-04-26 14:58:00 |
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*video post*
[[A man stands on the envelope of the blimp, the wind whipping his white coat about him. He holds in a baton in one hand and stares over the City, the gunfire and the screams, the minor explosions and the major, the smoke billowing from the hall of the missing. He turns to the camera and smiles. A horrible smile, a little tick that never leaves, his eyes the very depths of hell and madness]]
City! You exceed my expectations at every turn, and at every turn you show that each of you is a worthy enemy, worth tens of regular soldiers.
Each of you is a great virtuoso, a perfect soloist. Each of you has your own performance, a glorious performance that reaches the heavens with your own instruments and your own voices.
But, City, is not yet great! As great as soloists as you are, you are not yet an orchestra. You are not playing a great symphony. For as each individual piece soars, combined, it is not in harmony.
Here, let me help you. Let your conductor lead.
[[He snaps the baton in half and turns to the City, his back to the camera]]
And even though we are missing our first soprano, our first violin...
We shall assist.
Piccolo. The lightest. The most innocent seeming of the instruments. Show them what depths are concealed under that seeming of childhood.
First brass. Brash. Loud. A bombastic instrument that must be heard, that never fails to leave an impression. Make certain the melody is heard.
Viola. Sensuous in its shape, weaving its song and its image over the audience, showing the vision of the composer, the vision of song.
Trumpet. Glamorous, stylish. The instrument which makes the orchestra, dare I say it? Sexy. The man, go make war stylish.
Double bass. Not the loudest of instruments. But one with an unimaginable power behind it. The instrument that helps provide the foundation on which all the other instruments can exist.
I give you leave, my firsts, my leaders of the choir. Go hunt.
And I?
I will conduct.
And I will provide the percussion.
[[He lifts his hands and begins to conduct, sweeping his arms along in the beat, a horrible horrible beat. There is a roar of noise and smoke and fire trail out from the Deus ex Machina II, bearing the packages to the City.]]
[[OOC: Missiles away!. See the post for exact details, and remember, they explode near you only if you want them to. Is he cursed? Could you tell the difference if he was or wasn't?]]
[[A man stands on the envelope of the blimp, the wind whipping his white coat about him. He holds in a baton in one hand and stares over the City, the gunfire and the screams, the minor explosions and the major, the smoke billowing from the hall of the missing. He turns to the camera and smiles. A horrible smile, a little tick that never leaves, his eyes the very depths of hell and madness]]
City! You exceed my expectations at every turn, and at every turn you show that each of you is a worthy enemy, worth tens of regular soldiers.
Each of you is a great virtuoso, a perfect soloist. Each of you has your own performance, a glorious performance that reaches the heavens with your own instruments and your own voices.
But, City, is not yet great! As great as soloists as you are, you are not yet an orchestra. You are not playing a great symphony. For as each individual piece soars, combined, it is not in harmony.
Here, let me help you. Let your conductor lead.
[[He snaps the baton in half and turns to the City, his back to the camera]]
And even though we are missing our first soprano, our first violin...
We shall assist.
Piccolo. The lightest. The most innocent seeming of the instruments. Show them what depths are concealed under that seeming of childhood.
First brass. Brash. Loud. A bombastic instrument that must be heard, that never fails to leave an impression. Make certain the melody is heard.
Viola. Sensuous in its shape, weaving its song and its image over the audience, showing the vision of the composer, the vision of song.
Trumpet. Glamorous, stylish. The instrument which makes the orchestra, dare I say it? Sexy. The man, go make war stylish.
Double bass. Not the loudest of instruments. But one with an unimaginable power behind it. The instrument that helps provide the foundation on which all the other instruments can exist.
I give you leave, my firsts, my leaders of the choir. Go hunt.
And I?
I will conduct.
And I will provide the percussion.
[[He lifts his hands and begins to conduct, sweeping his arms along in the beat, a horrible horrible beat. There is a roar of noise and smoke and fire trail out from the Deus ex Machina II, bearing the packages to the City.]]
[[OOC: Missiles away!. See the post for exact details, and remember, they explode near you only if you want them to. Is he cursed? Could you tell the difference if he was or wasn't?]]
