12-05-2022, 12:16 AM
iáomai, ee-ah'-om-ahee, Greek
Iaomai is used literally of deliverance from physical diseases and afflictions and so to make whole, restore to bodily health or heal.
“You are an interesting man, Mr. James,” spoke a deep voice roughened by a hard life. Jensen didn’t know what to expect when he was summoned to the meeting this afternoon. All he knew was the time and the name of the hall buried deep within the Kremlin’s many offices. He’d wandered the halls for weeks now that he was becoming a recognized face. There were few smiles and rare nods of heads but he was recognizing others in return. When he swiveled in the chair, the man that entered was similarly known to him, but not from happenstance passings. It was one of the men that ushered them from the United States. He’d kept close company with Scion Marveet, Jensen recalled them speaking frequently. He was dressed in a suit not unlike the one Jensen wore, but it was clearly a label where Jensen’s was off-the-rack delivered to the guest room he occupied.
“I’m actually quite boring,” Jensen replied in acceptance of the bottle water being offered. He twisted off the cap eagerly. He’d not had much water that day, although he’d been drinking plenty.
“I would disagree,” the man responded, pushing forward a screen. It woke when Jensen dragged it nearer, and his throat tightened when he realized what it was displaying.
It was video of the auditorium where the Patheos rally took place. The gathering had meant to be a show of unity between all the world religions in support of the revelation of channelers. A shooting ended the event, and Sigvard nearly died. The Gift was captured on camera and Jensen became swarmed like the crowds seeking to touch the hem of Jesus’ robe.
He pushed the screen away with a sigh. “There is a world of hurting people. I can’t save them all, but I can’t save anyone from in here.”
“The Ascendancy agrees,” he replied.
Jensen shook his head with incomprehension.
The man went on. “My name is Special Agent Commander Kaleb Devarona. You’ll be under my protection. Please follow me,” he said. Next, Jensen was led to a part of the Kremlin he’d never seen before. He’d never even seen the entrance to the elevator. When he emerged, it was in some sort of tactical operation facility. Although not exactly like the research facility he’d seen previously.
There were no doctors or laboratory equipment here. This was for people like the Special agent commander. Jensen was led to a room with locked panels surrounding every wall. The special agent showed Jensen one in particular.
“Put your hand on this scanner,” he showed him. Jensen complied curiously as the reader scanned his palm. The light turned green and the sound of magnetic locks released.
A three-piece white suit was revealed. At first glance, it was cut like a business suit but for the cloth seeming to be made of something more structured than silk. It was designed with white with shades of gray and silver accents. The Ascendancy’s emblem was displayed on the shoulder but for being completely silvered. It also included a hoodie and gloves.
Jensen picked up what he thought was a bag, but upon turning it over, found it to be a mask. It was soft and stretched easily. It was also just as white as the rest of the outfit, and there appeared to be a different texture over the place where the nose, mouth and eyes would fit.
Kaleb came to stand beside him. “You’ll be an agent for the Ascendancy, but we have to protect your identity. The Custodies are working on erasing the knowledge that Jensen James can perform miracles, but until then, this is for your safety as much as anyone’s.”
Jensen blinked. “Ascendancy is going to let me help people?” he asked.
“Yes. That was the plan all along, Jensen. We had to figure out a way to do this safely. The suit is a carbon fiber kevlar grade. It will stop a bullet. The mask has some tech in it that you’ll need to train with.”
Jensen tugged the mask over his head and as soon as it slid into place, the eyes illuminated.
“I can’t wear this while I heal people. Someone on their death bed will be terrified,” he said even as he peered upon the world through this new technological gaze.
“You’ve no idea what kind of facial recognition technology exists, Jensen,” Kaleb explained. “There is only one way to make sure you aren’t identified. Remember, this is for more protection than just you.”
“What do you mean?” Jensen asked.
“You’re acting at the behest of the Ascendancy,” he pointed out the emblem on the suit’s lapel. “That will offer you protection, but as you said, you can’t heal the whole world. For every person you help, there will be ten who demand your head simply out of envy.”
Inside the mask, Jensen frowned. This was the dilemma that kept him stonewalled for so long already. How could he help someone without helping everyone.
“Then there are the patients themselves. The world might tear you apart trying to get your attention. Anyone that you help along the way may be a target. Are you ready for this?”
The weight of the task was overwhelming, but he knew he couldn’t wait to get started.
“I am so ready,” he said and immediately started to undress.
((Costume's inspiration came from the early renditions of Mr. Knight's design.))
Iaomai is used literally of deliverance from physical diseases and afflictions and so to make whole, restore to bodily health or heal.
“You are an interesting man, Mr. James,” spoke a deep voice roughened by a hard life. Jensen didn’t know what to expect when he was summoned to the meeting this afternoon. All he knew was the time and the name of the hall buried deep within the Kremlin’s many offices. He’d wandered the halls for weeks now that he was becoming a recognized face. There were few smiles and rare nods of heads but he was recognizing others in return. When he swiveled in the chair, the man that entered was similarly known to him, but not from happenstance passings. It was one of the men that ushered them from the United States. He’d kept close company with Scion Marveet, Jensen recalled them speaking frequently. He was dressed in a suit not unlike the one Jensen wore, but it was clearly a label where Jensen’s was off-the-rack delivered to the guest room he occupied.
“I’m actually quite boring,” Jensen replied in acceptance of the bottle water being offered. He twisted off the cap eagerly. He’d not had much water that day, although he’d been drinking plenty.
“I would disagree,” the man responded, pushing forward a screen. It woke when Jensen dragged it nearer, and his throat tightened when he realized what it was displaying.
It was video of the auditorium where the Patheos rally took place. The gathering had meant to be a show of unity between all the world religions in support of the revelation of channelers. A shooting ended the event, and Sigvard nearly died. The Gift was captured on camera and Jensen became swarmed like the crowds seeking to touch the hem of Jesus’ robe.
He pushed the screen away with a sigh. “There is a world of hurting people. I can’t save them all, but I can’t save anyone from in here.”
“The Ascendancy agrees,” he replied.
Jensen shook his head with incomprehension.
The man went on. “My name is Special Agent Commander Kaleb Devarona. You’ll be under my protection. Please follow me,” he said. Next, Jensen was led to a part of the Kremlin he’d never seen before. He’d never even seen the entrance to the elevator. When he emerged, it was in some sort of tactical operation facility. Although not exactly like the research facility he’d seen previously.
There were no doctors or laboratory equipment here. This was for people like the Special agent commander. Jensen was led to a room with locked panels surrounding every wall. The special agent showed Jensen one in particular.
“Put your hand on this scanner,” he showed him. Jensen complied curiously as the reader scanned his palm. The light turned green and the sound of magnetic locks released.
A three-piece white suit was revealed. At first glance, it was cut like a business suit but for the cloth seeming to be made of something more structured than silk. It was designed with white with shades of gray and silver accents. The Ascendancy’s emblem was displayed on the shoulder but for being completely silvered. It also included a hoodie and gloves.
Jensen picked up what he thought was a bag, but upon turning it over, found it to be a mask. It was soft and stretched easily. It was also just as white as the rest of the outfit, and there appeared to be a different texture over the place where the nose, mouth and eyes would fit.
Kaleb came to stand beside him. “You’ll be an agent for the Ascendancy, but we have to protect your identity. The Custodies are working on erasing the knowledge that Jensen James can perform miracles, but until then, this is for your safety as much as anyone’s.”
Jensen blinked. “Ascendancy is going to let me help people?” he asked.
“Yes. That was the plan all along, Jensen. We had to figure out a way to do this safely. The suit is a carbon fiber kevlar grade. It will stop a bullet. The mask has some tech in it that you’ll need to train with.”
Jensen tugged the mask over his head and as soon as it slid into place, the eyes illuminated.
“I can’t wear this while I heal people. Someone on their death bed will be terrified,” he said even as he peered upon the world through this new technological gaze.
“You’ve no idea what kind of facial recognition technology exists, Jensen,” Kaleb explained. “There is only one way to make sure you aren’t identified. Remember, this is for more protection than just you.”
“What do you mean?” Jensen asked.
“You’re acting at the behest of the Ascendancy,” he pointed out the emblem on the suit’s lapel. “That will offer you protection, but as you said, you can’t heal the whole world. For every person you help, there will be ten who demand your head simply out of envy.”
Inside the mask, Jensen frowned. This was the dilemma that kept him stonewalled for so long already. How could he help someone without helping everyone.
“Then there are the patients themselves. The world might tear you apart trying to get your attention. Anyone that you help along the way may be a target. Are you ready for this?”
The weight of the task was overwhelming, but he knew he couldn’t wait to get started.
“I am so ready,” he said and immediately started to undress.
((Costume's inspiration came from the early renditions of Mr. Knight's design.))