A stern man's voice bellows the very moment play is hit, and after a few blinks, the feed shows a very confusing and grim scene indeed.
In the distance a child is squalling -- shrieking, howling, really -- on the ground and flailing in the arms of a woman desperately trying to hold him still while a man is trying to get a hold of a blackened, broken arm.
As the old man hollers his command over the screaming, a younger man is clutching his head in abject turmoil, black smears oozing from his palms against the side of his face, rocking in place as if he means to flee, but is rooted by the gaze of the man who spoke.
"Do not look away, Bruce," he repeats, and the young man stills, gulping loudly and slowly turning around.
"You do not get to walk away from the price of impatience." The old man turns and looks toward the scene. "The price of ARROGANCE."
"Grandfather, I, I lost my head, I'm sorry, I--"
"REPENTANCE is not in words, son. You will not atone for this by groveling to me...or even to the Lumas! For the Lumas are the real victims here. HUMANITY are the real victims here!"
The man moves, putting a hand on Bruce's slouched back, his own head still held high, his voice raised for all the frightened onlookers to hear.
"One less hale and whole Darkov is one less chance for the survival of mankind! That is one less reason for any of us to BE. Hear me! Don't forget why it is that we EXIST! And why our petty fights amongst ourselves means so LITTLE in the scope of things.
"We are so few. Our quarry so many. We will ALL of us die, should our unity crumble."
The man's head turns, looking about the shaken group, before inevitably falling on the eyes of the viewer. Save for the boy's screaming, there is no other sound to be heard, not even the breath of the viewer.
"Do not forget this. All of you. For it is all that matters, in the end."
VIDEO//source: anon//postdate:03.15//tw: violence
A stern man's voice bellows the very moment play is hit, and after a few blinks, the feed shows a very confusing and grim scene indeed.
In the distance a child is squalling -- shrieking, howling, really -- on the ground and flailing in the arms of a woman desperately trying to hold him still while a man is trying to get a hold of a blackened, broken arm.
As the old man hollers his command over the screaming, a younger man is clutching his head in abject turmoil, black smears oozing from his palms against the side of his face, rocking in place as if he means to flee, but is rooted by the gaze of the man who spoke.
"Do not look away, Bruce," he repeats, and the young man stills, gulping loudly and slowly turning around.
"You do not get to walk away from the price of impatience." The old man turns and looks toward the scene. "The price of ARROGANCE."
"Grandfather, I, I lost my head, I'm sorry, I--"
"REPENTANCE is not in words, son. You will not atone for this by groveling to me...or even to the Lumas! For the Lumas are the real victims here. HUMANITY are the real victims here!"
The man moves, putting a hand on Bruce's slouched back, his own head still held high, his voice raised for all the frightened onlookers to hear.
"One less hale and whole Darkov is one less chance for the survival of mankind! That is one less reason for any of us to BE. Hear me! Don't forget why it is that we EXIST! And why our petty fights amongst ourselves means so LITTLE in the scope of things.
"We are so few. Our quarry so many. We will ALL of us die, should our unity crumble."
The man's head turns, looking about the shaken group, before inevitably falling on the eyes of the viewer. Save for the boy's screaming, there is no other sound to be heard, not even the breath of the viewer.
"Do not forget this. All of you. For it is all that matters, in the end."