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Violet City: Inn
Mar. 31st, 2011 01:10 pm( Expositiony drabble thing that can easily be ignored (Backdated 3/20) )
[It's the Midnight Hour, Johto. Normal people are asleep at this time, at least those who hadn't been subjected to various plot related elements of a certain video game. Alois, however, isn't going to the Velvet Room, nor is he announcing the beginning of the end. He's simply broadcasting a message is all. It's the same message each night since the twentieth of March.]
Hoheo taralna rondero tarel... Hoheo taralna rondero tarel... Hoheo taralna rondero tarel...
[It goes on for a half hour, at the same time each night before it suddenly cuts off and nothing fills the gear but silence.
But today, on the thirty-first of March, Alois decides to changes tactics. The broadcast is made in the early hours of the morning, his chant becoming more and more insistent. This time the video is on and Alois, though his eyes are half-cast and his complexion paler than usual, seems not yet defeated. He was not going to stop until he got what he wanted. That much was obvious.]
Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel! Hoheo taralna rondero tarel! Hoheo taralna rondero tarel!!
[His voice reaches a feverish pitch before dying altogether. He breathes deeply, steadies himself, and waits with a patience that doesn't seem to be of his own choosing.]
[It's the Midnight Hour, Johto. Normal people are asleep at this time, at least those who hadn't been subjected to various plot related elements of a certain video game. Alois, however, isn't going to the Velvet Room, nor is he announcing the beginning of the end. He's simply broadcasting a message is all. It's the same message each night since the twentieth of March.]
Hoheo taralna rondero tarel... Hoheo taralna rondero tarel... Hoheo taralna rondero tarel...
[It goes on for a half hour, at the same time each night before it suddenly cuts off and nothing fills the gear but silence.
But today, on the thirty-first of March, Alois decides to changes tactics. The broadcast is made in the early hours of the morning, his chant becoming more and more insistent. This time the video is on and Alois, though his eyes are half-cast and his complexion paler than usual, seems not yet defeated. He was not going to stop until he got what he wanted. That much was obvious.]
Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel! Hoheo taralna rondero tarel! Hoheo taralna rondero tarel!!
[His voice reaches a feverish pitch before dying altogether. He breathes deeply, steadies himself, and waits with a patience that doesn't seem to be of his own choosing.]
