[center][h3][color=7bcdc8][i]-Temporal... What?-[/i][/color][/h3][/center][center][@Viciousmarrow][/center]

Temporal machine or not, time seemed to have slowed to a crawl before the image that was presented before Jack. The hideous... violation of his personal space, taste and even common sense left the otherwise experienced vampire jaded and stunned, unable to form articulate sounds besides a faint high pitched [color=Brown][i]"Eeeeeeeeee"[/i][/color] coming from his mouth, all his body, nay, all his self going limp and livid. Of course, even in the most unlikely circumstances and mental states, his elder had prompted an answer about the cat-mantle-clock-noveau art mockery's impression on him, and he would get one.

[color=Brown]"Words fail to convey how awestruck I am now, M'lord."[/color] He settled to say, in an almost droning monotone, his eyes wide in an expression of unbridled shock and dread. Not because of what the elder assumed the sheer ingenuity of the alleged contraption, but more because his lord's apparent sanity had taken a [b]deep dive in Davy Jone's locker[/b], and seemed to be battling imaginary krakens while the allures of a thousand surreal mermaids were whispering eldritch thoughts in his conscience.

[color=Brown][i]Allfather. [h3]We.[/h3][h2]Are.[/h2][h1]DOOMED.[/h1][/i][/color]

Panic flared in the internal works of the Prelate, as he struggled to forcibly get back into his bearings with a mighty effort not dissimilar to the titan Atlas supporting the celestial sphere. [color=Brown][i]Damage control! I need to exert it before other people find out about our elder's insane machinations![/i][/color]

Coughing up, the second prompt of Louis Ventrue made him elaborate a hesitated response. [color=Brown]"...I'm sorry m'lord, it seems the contraption has failed to do its intended purpose. And uh... there's cat brains leaking on your shirt, sire."[/color] He frowned, as he eyed the scene unfolding, his gaze sharpening enough to death glare anyone who was witnessing the ...show in the vicinity. [color=Brown]"Perhaps it needs some fine tuning...aye? Allow me to escort you to the workshop, m'lord"[/color] 

This was the easy part. Playing along with Louis Ventrue was a skill honed by all vampires under his care. Those who did not, usually had less than stellar results. No, the hard part was crossing an unknown line, one that even a Prelate would not cross unless in very dire circumstances, but Jack esteemed that the loss of his life was an acceptable risk in order to reign in the Ventrue's whimsical insanity. Closing in to the elder, he whispered an ominous sentence.

[color=Brown]"[b]Louis[/b], what's wrong with you? You're not usually this...this...daring. Have you taken drugs?"[/color] Jack whispered into the Elder's idea. Perhaps the use of his first name would shake him off of his... time machine idea.