[voice]
[Crack. Fizzle. And then an older man's voice, clear and calm.]
Hello, "heroes."
I suppose an introduction is in order. I'm Brother Cavil. In my home world, I'd been serving the gods since I was a young boy. That all changed, of course, when I was taken into the City.
[He says the last word like it's an unpleasant smell at a banquet hall - disgusted, but polite enough to maintain some illusion of formality. He goes on.]
I doubt I'm the first to say that the maintainers of this city seem... unapologetic about the lives they have uprooted in their effort to keep their city "clean." To be honest, this pisses me off. This really pisses me off. If that makes me a criminal, lock me up. I'm guilty as charged.
Then again, I am locked up. We all are.
I'm not here to whine all over your nice, public forum. I'm here to remind you of what you had back home. I'm here to remind you of what you lost. Do you honestly think you'll ever see it again? So much for your unfinished business - that nice phone call you promised your mother, or that date you scheduled with your sweetheart. Or do you feel liberated now, running around in sparkling spandex and playing superhero just like you've always wanted? I mean no offense to this latter group. Maybe I'm even a little bit jealous of their so-called altruism. For the others, let me "do my good" by hearing your woes. I promise, at least, to listen.
Hello, "heroes."
I suppose an introduction is in order. I'm Brother Cavil. In my home world, I'd been serving the gods since I was a young boy. That all changed, of course, when I was taken into the City.
[He says the last word like it's an unpleasant smell at a banquet hall - disgusted, but polite enough to maintain some illusion of formality. He goes on.]
I doubt I'm the first to say that the maintainers of this city seem... unapologetic about the lives they have uprooted in their effort to keep their city "clean." To be honest, this pisses me off. This really pisses me off. If that makes me a criminal, lock me up. I'm guilty as charged.
Then again, I am locked up. We all are.
I'm not here to whine all over your nice, public forum. I'm here to remind you of what you had back home. I'm here to remind you of what you lost. Do you honestly think you'll ever see it again? So much for your unfinished business - that nice phone call you promised your mother, or that date you scheduled with your sweetheart. Or do you feel liberated now, running around in sparkling spandex and playing superhero just like you've always wanted? I mean no offense to this latter group. Maybe I'm even a little bit jealous of their so-called altruism. For the others, let me "do my good" by hearing your woes. I promise, at least, to listen.