thatrainbowcity | network video post;

[seated in the 9th Circle with his councilmen stands the Great Beast - a LIVE broadcast]

Brothers, sisters, children -- legion! I welcome you in council, and lay before you our sorrow.

Who here wish for a war with they-above? Let them step before this council and use their gifted tongues, by all and any means, to prove that battle is our right. Though this council reserves the right to arrest the dutiful application of said tongues from their persuasion work, insofar as more than 25 writhing tentacles and curiously shaped plastic is involved.

Let them prove that the gains are worth more than the losses, that there is enough coin for our scalding halls to keep burning at precisely the 201.3 C that our prisoners have indicated makes them weep as many single tears as our greatest weapon. Let them show that they have calculated the month’s setback on our torture schedule, and that they have drafted a program for the recovery of this procedural loss. Let them put together the propaganda that saves our face as betrayers and slaughterers, when we have but one battle-ready puppy, and even he close to retirement. And where our man, Milton has done well for our good name, but as the Fallen, we can rely on our supposed divine father complex for only so long.

I am told also that there are grievances and accusations upon which some of you persist. A fine pity. Our clerks were rigorously trained to have you questioning whether it is worth to keep living, by the time you reached the needed 904,397th form of official complaint.

Speak now, and they go heard. Hold your silence, and your Master returns to his forty-seventh paid breaking of his fast.

And for your humour, I promise these -

[the camera shifts to the three prizes, well-chained]

-- to those deserving. I have before you a challenge: riddle, perform, curse, or show your might. Amuse your master. To the best tricksters go the treats.

[ooc: a more humourous opportunity to break the darker vibe of this event a little >>!

ENCOURAGED in this post: network or action tags (from demons, angels, hostages, rescuers alike); bitching; moaning; throwing angels under the bus; throwing fellow demons under the bus; the bus; bureaucratic demons putting their foot down; espionage; wimps. As a reminder, this event is NOT just Angel-vs-Demons-grab-your-popcorn-gifs, so mess around, pull out the crack, let the demonkin point and laugh, threadjack, MAY THE LULZ ABOUND?

NOT encouraged in this post: ...yeah, okay, I can't think of anything.]

You shouldn't feel too disappointed. Tartar build-up can happen even under the best of circumstances.

Barney is your greatest weapon? What are you gonna do next, teach simple multiplication?

[ actually he's got this gut-feeling this is a bad idea, but it's too late to stop-- ]

You talk too damn much! Who's gonna listen to all that shit?!

Edited 2010-10-28 23:29 (UTC)

AND WHAT DOES THAT DAMN DINOSAUR HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?!

[In the ninth circle, Anna's been hung by chains, her visible wings pinned to the fall behind her. Her vessel's been battered and with the sigils printed on the wall behind her, she's obviously not going anywhere any time soon.

Her Network device is around her neck, in case anyone wants to talk.]

[Before returning to the angels, Lulu Bell assumes Castiel's form to bid Anna farewell.]

Enjoy your stay.

Any propaganda can be turned on its head, should one wish it. All it takes is to provide a solid counter argument for that which they attempt to claim.

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