WELCOME TO DREAMWIDTH, HERO...

[The focus is on this mask. Black Mask narrates from off camera.]

"The mask being in a great measure contrived to prevent the dispersion of the voice, the mouth was so formed, and was so encrusted with metal, as to have somewhat the effect of a speaking-trumpet-hence the Romans gave the name of persona to masks, because they rendered the articulation of those who wore them more distinct and sonorous..."

[There's the soft sound of a book closing as the view moves from the theater mask to another.]

Through the sublimation of the personality, inhibitions and societal pressures die. The wearer assumes more primitive instincts; the cunning and predatory nature of a cat, for instance. An individual may tap into the mask's spiritual power and create a new persona to achieve an end the original self cannot. To steal. To go among polite society while despising them. To fight evil with fear.

[The camera pans down the wall to the next mask.]

And sometimes the wearer becomes the mask.

[A heavy pause as he lingers on the Hannya mask for a moment longer before turning the angle on his own face. Doing so reveals a glimpse of the room: a study or a living room, perhaps, somewhat minimalist in style with black furniture, the floors and walls white.]

Midnighter. Let's talk, shall we?

["Stuck in the Middle" by Stealer's Wheel is heard behind a god-awful screaming. The shrieks change to rapid gasps, as though someone were hyperventilating. There's an exasperated sigh.]

What? I haven't even touched you yet and already you're squealin' like you want your mommy.

[There is a slap and the man's gasps become hurt yelps.]

That wasn't so bad, now, was it?

[The dominant, gravelly voice chuckles and sings along to the music, the audio punctuated every so often with shrieks from the second man.]

"...it's so hard to keep this smile from my face..."

[The video clicks on to reveal our protagonist, Roman Sionis: the Black Mask, and a bound man wearing a tiger mask. Sionis focuses the picture on Mr. Tiger.]

New city, new agenda, folks. Well, the folks that care, which should be all of you sheeple, but I know right now only a select, special few of you care, so I'm counting on you to fill in all your little caped friends.

[The picture jerks upward to reveal a grinning Roman. He waves, and the picture wildly swerves back to Mr. Tiger, who dramatically slips out of his faked bonds. He also waves. Roman can be heard snickering.]

Say 'hello', Mr. Tiger.

[Mr. Tiger bows stiffly at the waist. Black Mask moves into the video, his hands spread before him in explication.]

I know what you're thinkin': it's damn rude of me to insist he wear a mask, but I know how Batarang-trigger happy some of you can be and Mr. T. here has a pretty spiffy resume, dude can type 120 words-per-minute, so...can't blame a guy for wanting job security these days, am I right? I know I'm right.