A young man gets tangled up in a rebellion against the current oligarchy of his country.
The scene opens to an ornate ballroom, red chairs and small coffee tables lining its walls and gold-lined curtains shutting out all light from the tall windows. There are only a few couples on the red-and-black checkered dance floor.
Camera slowly zooms in on a woman (Alutia) in a red and black dress that resembles the fashion of the 1770s (very lacey and decorative). She has a somewhat disapproving yet mischievous look on her face as she surveys the dancers with black eyes. Couples crowd at her feet in a type of frightened worship; they kneel in front of her, arms at their sides, backs completely straight, bowing every four seconds (quite unnaturally and uncomfortably). They're completely uniform in position and motion. Their clothes are all black and their hair is white, as if years of worry had aged them prematurely.
Ueath stands a considerable distance away from the group, dressed in a black tuxedo, his short black hair left disheveled as though he has repeatedly run his hands through it. His dark eyes are sunken and his face covered with various bruises. He starts to gather a few dirty plates from the tables, avoiding eye contact with Alutia and her worshippers (a vaguely bored yet scared look on his face--he avoids eye contact with her, keeping his back turned, yet his eyes stray to her throne every once in a while). He is attempting to sneak out of the large, black, wooden door with his load when he is interrupted:
Alutia, in a demanding and chilling tone: UEATH!
Ueath turns around, a peeved expression on his face.
Ueath: Your highness?
Alutia, with a slight smile: Come here.
Ueath walks over (stiffly), giving Alutia a slight bow as he arrives, almost dropping a few plates.
Ueath comes closer still, stepping over the worshippers awkwardly.
Ueath, mumbling: Sorry. Excuse me. Pardon me.
He reaches Alutia finally, giving her a large, mocking smile.
Painfully slowly, Alutia takes a plate from Ueath's stack, carefully holding it above his head for a few seconds. Ueath tightly closes his eyes and grits his teeth. Alutia raises the plate higher, then brings it down forcefully upon Ueath's head, shattering it.
Ueath drops his pile of plates in pain, grabbing at his head. Alutia laughs sadistically, then the chuckle fades and her expression is one of bone-chilling anger.
Alutia, in a devastated, shrieking tone: Where is my tea? I asked for it five minutes ago!
Ueath, still clutching his head: Forgive me, your highness--I was just gathering dishes!
Alutia: No excuses! Go! Gesturing to the broken dishes all over the floor and worshippers (yet they don't stop bowing): Then clean this up!
Ueath nods, then bows again. He turns and leaves, gradually breaking into a sprint away from the evil woman.