Search Results: 42 messages were found

It was very enlightening to hear your ideas of the ways in which we may be able use the android we discovered to our advantage, mes amis, and yet, I cannot divest myself of the feeling that there is a much greater bounty here. Ah, this is maddening. Well, we shall see. It is not that I am concerned that any of our so-called competitors will discover the prize before us, of course! No, merely that some vast resource may be going to waste, when, if we had it, we could surely put it to much more rewarding uses.

So, we find a plot in the guise of chaos surrounding the stolen program. Seraph claimed to know only the beginning, but the disturbance and disruption that facilitated his escape would seem to put the lie to his ignorance, n'est-ce pas? It will amuse me to strip away the rest of the facade.

Charmant, n'est-ce pas? The ideologue stands by and watches as a man dies in reaction to her--shall we say, flamboyant?--new appearance, while promising him that she is there to help. Hm! I do not think any of us want your sort of help, mademoiselle, but then, we are already a step ahead of you.

And who has run out of time now, monsieur? You should not have been in such a hurry.

It is unfortunate that Monsieur Carlyne did not stay for cake. But we have seen, mes amis, that he was pressed for time. Quel dommage; stress cannot be good for one in his condition.

Ah, the "humanitarians"... But it is always the "haves" versus the "have nots"; that is the way of things, and when you seek to acquire something, you must also be prepared for the consequences.

And still they try to keep it hidden from me. But I have already caught a glimpse, messieurs. It is too late for you to play hard to get.

Discretion, my friends, is our stock in trade. If you wish to know what took place at this delightful party thrown by Les Enfants, you must pay the price.

Hm... A mountainous region avoided by Sentinel patrols. Then there is something on the face of the Earth upon which even the mighty Machines fear to intrude...

He is a clever man... This match may prove to be an interesting one after all.

If he really did not understand her significance, then his spying remains unexplained. Another mystery, or is his disinterest feigned?

Hm, we will see. He has power, oui, but he does not understand how this game is played...

The girl...

It was an...unusual party, but he did not seem displeased by the result. Merci, mes amis.

The Merovingian

How long am I doomed to suffer this fool in ever more insipid incarnations? I have looked this latest in the eye, and seen nothing but a fixation with failing to comprehend. I solace myself in the knowledge that tilting at windmills is a very short-lived career.

Although it pains me, my friends, a crime as vicious as betrayal must be dealt with swiftly and harshly, lest it be repeated. I can only hope that Silver will serve as a salutary example to those who might otherwise have made a similar mistake, and given information to our enemies without permission.

The crime E Pluribus Neo has perpetuated demands a special form of retribution--something carefully crafted for the occasion. An eye for an eye will not suffice; like naughty children, they must be dealt with severely in order to curb their inappropriate behavior; this is, mes amis, our duty to society. The little ones will not appreciate it now, but perhaps they will thank us later...if they survive the lesson.

Oui... No mere slap, but something to crush their very hopes and dreams...

J'espère, mes amis, that the party was as stimulating for you as it was for me. The cake was positively to die for. In these troubled times, we must savor such moments, non?

The mannequin's story is strangely incomplete. If it is a lie, it is hardly a good one. And if it is not... Well, we shall see.

Fear, mes amis, is quite a persuasive agent, n'est-ce pas? Just one of the many uses of this new "war."

The Merovingian

Mes amis,

Despite the outbreak of the Machines' much-vaunted "war" against the cave-dwellers, our power base remains as strong as ever. Our many allies realize that while man and machine have proven unreliable, our own organization continues to prove its power and profitability.

À bientôt,

The Merovingian

Let us drink, mes amis, to this new war. As the coffins of the rival parties pile high, so shall our coffers.

The Merovingian

There is an art to sowing chaos. You cannot simply smash random elements together and hope to generate a spark. You must give them what they want to believe, while keeping it under your own control. A very useful skill...

I have heard many thoughtless tongues accuse my dear ally and confederate, the General, of irrational behavior, of blatant stupidity, of a tragic overabundance of--eh, what is that charming phrase--"pig-headedness."

To those who say such ungenerous things, I reply that, in my experience, the General has shown himself to be an eminently reasonable man. He has made every effort to cooperate while in the most grievous of circumstances. Par exemple, he has willingly given us the use of his program that transfers his soldiers between the two worlds, as he realizes that with the use of this tool, it is in our power to save the lives of his loyal men.

Is this the act of an irrational being, mes amis? Certainement pas. Monsieur le Général follows the course dictated by his instincts of true leadership, for which I salute him.

Au revoir,

The Merovingian

It is most unfortunate that the enemy learned of the Apothecary's attempt to leave the Matrix; yes, quite a shame. I understand her commando escort was wiped out to a man, and she, herself, chased through the decaying streets, to be gunned down in some dark alley.

Such is life, my friends; such is death; such is war.

Let us have one last toast for the Apothecary, and the fine kill-code she crafted for us. Her legacy, mes amis, will live on as its target dies.

Santé.

The Merovingian

What do you say about a successful party, mes amis, except to ask: when is the next? And so in such a pleasant way do we fill out the year's calendar.

Bonne nuit,

The Merovingian

Fickle are the ways of a woman, eh? But let us not judge our dear Agent too harshly; after all, she was subjected to a very potent code indeed. It is pleasing to see that our little knock on her head had such a resounding effect. The kill-code, I believe, is shaping up quite nicely.

Adieu,

The Merovingian

The kill code is coming along nicely, as I think you will see. I would not have chosen the same target as the General did, but, eh, one was as good as another for this little test, and it is amusing to indulge the foibles of those who work for me, when I can do so at no additional cost.

I have heard the muttering that the General is a liability to our cause; to those mutterers, I say only that you fail to see certain very real...possibilities.

Adieu.

The Merovingian

Salut, mes amis. I am sure you are all as happy as I to see the success of our effort to bring the peerless Apothecary to safety. She has generously agreed to do some highly specialized work for us that I believe will reap a bountiful harvest. My particular congratulations to those of you who aided the Trainman in escorting her to me.

Au revoir,

The Merovingian

My old acquaintance the Trainman has fallen on hard times. Reduced to skulking through the Abandoned Subway in order to access his private construct--such a thing should not happen in our modern world, mes amis. We must succor this lost lamb, non? A most generous offer has been extended, one that no man in his right mind would be able to resist. I am certain that we will soon hug our lost lamb to our bosom once more.

Bonsoir,

The Merovingian

Mes amis,

The cheat codes have been quite troublesome in the past, in the hands of children and fools. We will put this one that we have acquired to a much more proper use, non?

The Merovingian

Mes amis,

Le Général has begun to hold up his end of our agreement--or so it would seem. Truthfully, I tire of the silly cheat codes the Machines allowed to be slopped around the city; however, if in fact one may be put to this very good use, I shall bear them no grudge. Locating them has in the past proven to be rather difficult, but let us see what results this code of the General's produces, eh?

Bonne nuit,

The Merovingian

My friends, I am glad so many of you were able to be there for our little memorial service. It is only proper that a solemn rite should mark the passing of a great man. Let us shed a tear for the departed, eh?

Ah, but take heart! Great things are afoot. One man's tragedy is another man's opportunity, non?

So, it was Anti M. I think we will soon have this pesky affair behind us, mes amis. Those who have betrayed me will receive their just desserts.

That putain, Salera, is dead, and we have at least regained two of our cheat codes.

Apologies for my vituperation, mes amis. But the actions of our ex-liaison officer angered me very much. I go to great trouble to earn my resources. I do not tolerate thieves. Even the Oracle learned that, non?

Yes, I was fool enough to choose Salera as the one to secure the cheat codes from the warehouse where the Machines had unwittingly stored them. But I was not so foolish, my friends, as to create codes that I could not counteract. Always have insurance, eh?

Regrettably, I had to use the kill code on her quickly, lest she damage the two remaining codes she carried. She deserved a much more prolonged demise...

But the night has just begun, ma chère. Why should you go so soon? Come, stay at least for the pousse-café.

"Sorry, little cabbage. I've got to get to work."

Pah, work! Why should you work? You know that if you came back--

"I like being on my own now."

Yes, and I see that it agrees with you. Permit me at least to offer you an escort. Flood--

"No thanks. I'll take care of it."

Pardonnez-moi, mademoiselle. I did not mean to disparage your resourcefulness. Au revoir.

You! See her to the door, imbecile!

I find that humans are easily distracted. More often than not, this can be turned to one's advantage. However, when it comes to my own employees, sometimes a few reminders of the truly important things are necessary.

What matters is power--in the right hands, for power is more than mere energy. A bolt from the blue is energy, force; but is it directed? Does it have a lasting effect? If not, then it may as well never have existed.

Power in the wrong hands is tragic. Such...inefficiency. But imbalances such as this do not last. Power has a way of finding those who know how to use it.

Mes amis, the hubris of the Machines has been in need of some moderation. Ever overconfident, ever full of false pride, perhaps their recent success against that fool, the General, led them to the erroneous conclusion that they had become the unquestioned lords of what they like to call "their" domain.

They were, of course, mistaken.

It was fitting, then, to give them a little demonstration to correct their faulty logic. They should thank me, mais non, I know they will not; I gave up expecting any gratitude from them for my services long ago. But don't worry, mes chers! I will not let that discourage me from giving them these little reminders from time to time.

Ah, what would they do without us, eh?

My operatives wished to hold a party in my club. Could I permit such a thing? Eh, well, it had been a year since their last one, so perhaps I could see my way to indulging them. And after all, I simply could not allow all the lovely women there to go home disappointed.

Will I be so generous next year? Hm! That will depend on whether they behave themselves, non?

Her style is, yes, a trifle...exotic, but one cannot mistake a good woman, mes amis, and as a liaison, Banshae is superb. I expect you all to give her your full attention. This should be très facile, non? ~ The Merovingian

Banshae

I come nae this way blindfolded.
The Matrix w'my home many a'day an' night.
I watched the seasons pass, the year go a'by...
Soft, child. Let me tell ye a tale,
of such life as there's to be had upon the grace o' the wind...

Aye, to be the currents of the air, flowin' in and out of the glass an' the concrete.
'Tis a beautious thing, to be free such as that is...
An' yet... 'Tis nae such a freedom as one mae suspect.

Once, aye once when I were a wee lass, A waif of a girl, borne aloft on the draughts...
Once, I had the pleasure to touch at the clouds, an' to move the winds as I supposed they ought.
I was a machine, in those days... Doin' what I ought to, pleasure enough in m'work.
... But nae enough to truly sate m'curiosity for what lie beyond the calculations as I knew.
The only life I knew. A life wi'out a body to call my own.
A life spent watchin' over the city, but nae an nary able to touch upon its perfection...
Naught but w'the winds... The North, South, East, an' West.
These we'at my command, an' I revelled in their cooling touch, where they blew free an' wild.

... Then, came the storm.
'Twas a horrid thing, an' one which I could make nae sense of.
A virus hae attacked th'system. One so bold an' so powerful, it caused the skies to weep an' the earth to crack.
The winds rose to a shriekin' gale that day, oh surely m'dear...
'Twas the most terrifyin' and most maddenin' thing imaginable...
An' in the face o'that bitter storm, where the winds whipped around me, tarn from my control...
'T did drive me mad, it did.

Now, I say nae madness from a human perspective, but rather ought o'simple math.
I ceased doin' what I should hae done. I ceased to obey m'programmed masters.
After all, waren't they the ones who let this'll happen, with the rain, an' the storm...?

Aye. 'Twas their negligence in those days that drove me from my post, and led me off to seek...
Other employment.

Already, the Merovingian's name were known in the backchannels an' the underworld.
I simply sought him out, that he'd harbour me a'he did his other charges.
For a time, I stayed a'such, until he come to need me to deal with his new armies.
Humans, recruited t'do his work an' t'serve his will.
T'make him proud, in fightin' for his honor.

That were somethin' I could stand behind, an'tis my pleasure t'serve his lairdship in such a way.
There's a freedom, in't. A freedom which tack'ahold of my very code, such a'its grip upon.

I come nae this way blindfolded.
The Matrix i'my home. An' I shae do all in my pow'r to ensure tha' it stays as such.
'Tis a valuable thing, bein' the wind...
Bear in mind, ye cannot escape what air ye believe to breathe...

Mon dieu!

Ah, my friends, what a fight we gave them outside Club Succubus! How delicious to hear the cries of our enemies as they fell before us like so much grain before the scythe. That, mes amis, is what reminds a man that he is alive!

I am sure you will be able to feel the same zest when moving down these noxious "Sleepwalkers" whenever they choose to show themselves. The concert sites are the key, of course. Remember what we discussed.

Bonne chance,

The Merovingian