09-25-2013, 06:53 PM
Where Nikolai Brandon was concerned, the press liked to focus on body language. In the aforementioned livecast, his appeal to the American people came from a father-figure, a trustworthy but stern patriarch careful to nurture those in his care back to health and prosperity.
In the address, he appealed to American exceptionalism. "It is not a name that makes the country great, it is the people," he had explained with due passion. Nikolai spoke as one of their own and the reviews were already returning stellar praise. He was the only one approaching the US government with a clear plan to reinstate their former glory. Not only philosophically, Nikolai appealed to the average American at the most basic level. Merit was given him instantly by sheer physical appearance - a mandatory attribute since the mid-twentieth century. A dark haired, Caucasian with blinding blue eyes was the kind of man mothers would welcome at the dinner table and fathers would entrust with the most delicate of business deals. To win the Ascendancy's favor was to know peace, and in a world full of turmoil, peace was priceless. "Do you not crave CCD peace and prosperity? I ask you only to be honest with yourselves."
Just before coming on stage, his wardrobe consultant finished straightening his tie, bright red power against a Custody gray shirt. Together with a brilliantly black suit, he was power incarnate.
Almost.
The consultant caught his eye the moment he grasped what loomed on the horizon of his mind. The rush coursed behind his gaze, both glacial and volcanic, simultaneously swelling his soul with thrill and fear.
The man lowered his eyes and quickly withdrew.
Nikolai let him.
From the wings, he took everything in. The perfume of scents and odors wafted from those clustered in the media room beyond. Minuscule specks of dust caught in the stream of stage lighting numbered immeasurable as the stars. The hum of chatter, the whir of electrical equipment, the footfalls of loafers. All of it swarmed his senses in that single, powerful moment that he stepped into view.
And then he forced it to recede from the forefront of his attention. He smiled to the familiar faces in the crowd as he approached the podium. Allesandra, most senior member of the press corps positioned front row, center left greeted him with a slow nod and aged smile. Her grayed curls were once yellow as the sun, her lips once full and voluptuous were now thin and drawn. Beside her, Domlin pulled a pair of glasses from the interior pocket of his jacket. Nikolai was unaware how many surgeries his eyes endured over the years, but by the grace of modern medicine, he needed only slight correction when he ought to be blind. To him Nikolai bowed a respectful nod.
At the podium, he lifted his study toward the entire room before taking a drink from the supplied bottle of water. The sweep only briefly included those on the back row, but only to confirm Trano was indeed present. If the man felt anything unprecedented, Nikolai wanted him off-put by the menacing force that descended upon the room. If circumstances were as he guessed, Trano should now be ready to cower with despair.
Among those waving for the first question, Nikolai addressed Allesandra, whom upon being called lowered the sharply manicured finger that drew the Ascendancy's attention in the first place.
"Why do you continue to approach the USA when you were content to respond to other annexations only when asked by the incoming country for consideration?"
Nikolai responded, "I asked the US government to take a pause and recalibrate the nation's trajectory going forward. They should consider the welfare of the people before the pride of lawmakers. I suppose I am burdened with the desire that the country of my birth does not crumble beyond repair."
It was a somber statement after admitting only a short time before to hail from America at all. He did speak the truth, however. It would be a shame to see such greatness that the United States once was lost forever when he alone could preserve its memory.
One of his aids interrupted the session two questions later. He hurried to the Ascendancy's side and spoke quietly in his ear. In the audience, heads turned left and right, questioning what the Custody knew that they did not. Something must have happened.
The man left and Nikolai sighed while gathering his thoughts. The press were on the edge of their seats by the time he resumed speaking. "I have been informed that moments following my address, the North American eastern seaboard experienced a blackout affecting approximately 90 million people in the United States and Canada."
Nikolai was unsympathetic to the concern, although days and weeks without power was likely to devastate the ongoing recovery efforts in Ohio. Hospitals and shelters were already strained in Michigan and Pennsylvania.
The room erupted into a sea of hands.
In the address, he appealed to American exceptionalism. "It is not a name that makes the country great, it is the people," he had explained with due passion. Nikolai spoke as one of their own and the reviews were already returning stellar praise. He was the only one approaching the US government with a clear plan to reinstate their former glory. Not only philosophically, Nikolai appealed to the average American at the most basic level. Merit was given him instantly by sheer physical appearance - a mandatory attribute since the mid-twentieth century. A dark haired, Caucasian with blinding blue eyes was the kind of man mothers would welcome at the dinner table and fathers would entrust with the most delicate of business deals. To win the Ascendancy's favor was to know peace, and in a world full of turmoil, peace was priceless. "Do you not crave CCD peace and prosperity? I ask you only to be honest with yourselves."
Just before coming on stage, his wardrobe consultant finished straightening his tie, bright red power against a Custody gray shirt. Together with a brilliantly black suit, he was power incarnate.
Almost.
The consultant caught his eye the moment he grasped what loomed on the horizon of his mind. The rush coursed behind his gaze, both glacial and volcanic, simultaneously swelling his soul with thrill and fear.
The man lowered his eyes and quickly withdrew.
Nikolai let him.
From the wings, he took everything in. The perfume of scents and odors wafted from those clustered in the media room beyond. Minuscule specks of dust caught in the stream of stage lighting numbered immeasurable as the stars. The hum of chatter, the whir of electrical equipment, the footfalls of loafers. All of it swarmed his senses in that single, powerful moment that he stepped into view.
And then he forced it to recede from the forefront of his attention. He smiled to the familiar faces in the crowd as he approached the podium. Allesandra, most senior member of the press corps positioned front row, center left greeted him with a slow nod and aged smile. Her grayed curls were once yellow as the sun, her lips once full and voluptuous were now thin and drawn. Beside her, Domlin pulled a pair of glasses from the interior pocket of his jacket. Nikolai was unaware how many surgeries his eyes endured over the years, but by the grace of modern medicine, he needed only slight correction when he ought to be blind. To him Nikolai bowed a respectful nod.
At the podium, he lifted his study toward the entire room before taking a drink from the supplied bottle of water. The sweep only briefly included those on the back row, but only to confirm Trano was indeed present. If the man felt anything unprecedented, Nikolai wanted him off-put by the menacing force that descended upon the room. If circumstances were as he guessed, Trano should now be ready to cower with despair.
Among those waving for the first question, Nikolai addressed Allesandra, whom upon being called lowered the sharply manicured finger that drew the Ascendancy's attention in the first place.
"Why do you continue to approach the USA when you were content to respond to other annexations only when asked by the incoming country for consideration?"
Nikolai responded, "I asked the US government to take a pause and recalibrate the nation's trajectory going forward. They should consider the welfare of the people before the pride of lawmakers. I suppose I am burdened with the desire that the country of my birth does not crumble beyond repair."
It was a somber statement after admitting only a short time before to hail from America at all. He did speak the truth, however. It would be a shame to see such greatness that the United States once was lost forever when he alone could preserve its memory.
One of his aids interrupted the session two questions later. He hurried to the Ascendancy's side and spoke quietly in his ear. In the audience, heads turned left and right, questioning what the Custody knew that they did not. Something must have happened.
The man left and Nikolai sighed while gathering his thoughts. The press were on the edge of their seats by the time he resumed speaking. "I have been informed that moments following my address, the North American eastern seaboard experienced a blackout affecting approximately 90 million people in the United States and Canada."
Nikolai was unsympathetic to the concern, although days and weeks without power was likely to devastate the ongoing recovery efforts in Ohio. Hospitals and shelters were already strained in Michigan and Pennsylvania.
The room erupted into a sea of hands.