He wasn’t entirely surprised that Ezvin followed him from the dance floor. A wave of relief washed over him when Ezvin tried to lighten the mood with a joke about an ex. He couldn’t help but crack a small smile despite the turmoil inside. He had only one ex, an ex-wife, unless Jessika qualified as a widow, and she was on the other side of the world, but it was a preferable suggestion compared to the truth.
His attention was momentarily diverted by Ezvin's enthusiasm for the rock star across the room. "Aiden Finnegan? From Blarney Stoned?" Jensen mused quietly to himself. He vaguely recognized the band name but couldn't place any songs. His years out of the secular music loop, coupled with his past preference for spiritual music, left him a bit disconnected from the current scene. He had no idea who the band was that was debuting an album tonight either.
Ezvin's admiration for the rock star’s bold, ruby-embellished suit was infectious, though. Jensen couldn't help but wonder about the extravagance of it all; were those real rubies or just clever imitations? The cost alone must be astronomical, he certainly looked like a rockstar. Then again, Jensen was hardly one to judge.
Jensen was a quiet observer as Ezvin effortlessly made the introduction. He likely would have remained in such a state until Aiden’s companion suddenly addressed him. The man's American accent was unmistakable.
"Jensen James, as I live and breathe. What would Aria say if she saw you now?"
His phone buzzed in his pocket, but Jensen was too transfixed to notice.
"You've come a long way since your night fighting mist monsters. I hope none show up here. They seem to like you channelers -- and I think there is a smorgasbord of them showing up around Moscow. They could be anywhere."
Jensen's heart skipped a bea as his face drained of color, and a chill ran down his spine. Who was this man? How did he know his name, and what did he know about Aria – someone Jensen hadn't seen in almost a year? The mention of mist monsters and channelers struck too close to home, and in doing so, the stranger revealed a secret he had purposefully kept hidden.
Jensen's mouth opened, but words failed him. He was speechless, his mind racing. His gaze flickered to Ezvin, fear and apology mingling in his eyes. He had never intended to keep secrets, but this revelation was too sudden, too raw.
Finally, finding his voice, he spoke, voice strained, "I... I would have told you, Ezvin. When the time was right." His voice was a mix of fear and sincerity, a plea for understanding.
Aria's friend might have revealed the truth, but it was this current version of Jensen who was masquerading as another man. It was a dangerous play pretending to be someone he wasn’t destined to become, and parties, stars, and dates were about as far from himself as he could possibly go. Continuing down this path would only lead to disappointment and heartache, not to mention forsaking his own calling. He momentarily recalled Ezvin’s hand on his neck and the way he pushed and pulled at his waist as they danced, but that was all it would be: a memory. He should leave.
“Please excuse me,” he spoke quietly as he bowed out. He turned toward the exit, but the party was full of people and he was not able to navigate his way. He’d made it less than ten steps before he needed to go around a group of people when he looked up just in time to come face to face with... "Maksim." The name spilled out as he interrupted their conversation.
He was briefly aware that Maksim was in the company of two other women and two other men, but he couldn’t look away from Maksim. He was all but frozen in place. Behind him was a man who knew him as Jensen James and here he was face to face with someone who knew his alternate identity as Iáson. Please, he silently begged Maksim, say nothing.
((Ooc: Jensen didn’t get far; maybe less than a few steps. So if Sage or Aiden or Ezvin wants to follow, they absolutely can. He has ended up all but walking into the group with Alistair, Nadya, J.J., Maksim and Alina.))
Ezvin intended to introduce himself to Aiden’s companion, but it seemed that he was more interested in Jensen. Ezvin watched the encounter between them unfold with a mix of curiosity that slowly morphed into confusion. It seemed that Aiden’s date knew Jensen, and knew him well, even if by the look on Jensen’s face the reciprocal wasn’t true.
Jensen’s reaction was alarming, and even if Ezvin had no idea about mist monsters or unknown women, he knew well and true the significance of being labeled a channeler. It placed Jensen behind a whole other lens, and together with what he already knew about the man, the combination was telling.
As Jensen shared his apology, looking at him with a mixture of fear and deep sincerity, Ezvin felt a tug at his heart. It was clearly a part of Jensen's life that he knew nothing about, a part of himself that was now suddenly and unexpectedly exposed. Everyone struggled through being unwillingly outed in different ways; but he couldn’t fathom how that must feel to be revealed as a channeler before one was ready to share.
Ezvin took a step nearer Jensen, instinctively wanting to offer support, but before he could, his date excused himself. In the few moments after he left, Ezvin wondered about the right thing to do. He wanted to respect Jensen’s privacy, but damn, he couldn’t leave things unsaid. It was probably going to cost him his only opportunity to pitch a collab with Aiden, but… well, Fuck it.
He turned back to Aiden and his date, brows furrowed, expression tight with disappointment, and he addressed them both. “I really don't care how you guys know each other, but that’s probably the nicest man in the world. You should apologize. Tell him you didn’t know he wasn’t telling people. Then let’s all go get those drinks, yes?”
In Ezvin’s experience, this was going to go one of two ways. He hoped it would end with them all sharing shots of vodka and drinking to za fstryé-tchoo — their mutual friendships. The other way was far less pleasant. Then he’d figure out how to mend things with Jensen.
To that end, he left Aiden and his date to decide how they would proceed and hurried after Jensen, easily pushing his way through the crowd that Jensen walked around, and managed to get far enough to catch up. But of course, he paused as he reached Maksim and his entourage, locking eyes with his older brother.
It looked like Sage hurt someone's feelings. A smirk played across his face as the two men left. "I hadn't meant to do that." but there was only one fleeting stab of guilt as the man berated him for his callous way. Sage hadn't took the Hacker name "The Wicked Truth" because he was soft and sweet. The truth hurt, and sometimes it had a wicked sense of humor. He felt bad for that small second. Jensen was a good guy. Nox would likely rip him a new one if he outed the only fucking healer in the game. Shit!
It wasn't the words spoken by Jaxen's brother. Or even that stab of guilt. It was Nox's reaction that spurred his movement. He didn't get more than two steps out of Aiden's arms before the tension in Jensen and Ezvin was written in every muscle of their body. The man they stared at was none other than yet another brother of Jaxen. How lovely -- the very man with whom he'd framed for all of Jaxen's escapades. Wouldn't it be nice...
A wicked smile drew across Sages lips as the lights in the party went out. Sparks crashed all around Maskim. It wasn't the power inside, it was faulty electrical wiring popping at Sage's demands. The system hummed with power as the small pyrotechnics went off by the DJs booth for later in the party when the album would debut. Now all used up for the screaming of the patrons as the nice shiny room exploded with more sparks from perfectly good wiring.
It was dark -- the crowd panicked and Sage sent Jensen's app a new message.
"May in the darkness shall the truth set you free."
Sage grabbed Aiden's hand. "This place bores me." he said with a smirk, and tugged Adian after Ezvin and Jensen with a faked smile and a flashlight from his pocket. It was a tiny thing meant to help him find small circuits in the server. He carried it everywhere now that he was tweaking everything at home. "Sorry, my mouth doesn't know when to shut up, but I have a light." He held pointed the direction to the nearest exit. It happened to be marked 'employees only' but since Ezvin was running the show -- he'd likely not want to leave until things settled.
[[ooc: sorry. ]]
Adrian only stepped into the event space to gauge the night’s success. From celebrities and musicians to the wealthy with ties to the mafia, there were faces he recognized, although not all would recognize him in turn. The Radiance was something of neutral ground for the Russians, with Adrian himself representing that neutral party, with his businesses crossing the lines to provide services to all portions of the criminal underworld. The scene was met with a nod of approval. He intended to leave as soon as he arrived, but as he gave the room a final survey, sudden and unexpected chaos erupted. Sparks flew from the lights and electrical devices, startling everyone. Indoor fireworks unexpectedly shot off from the DJ booth, adding to the confusion. Then, as quickly as it started, the room plunged into darkness, the only light now coming from the panicked glow of Wallet screens.
Adrian stood frozen for a moment, his mind racing. This was his building, his responsibility, and such a malfunction was unthinkable. The building was state-of-the-art, with safety measures to match its technological prowess. It must be sabotage. He was well aware of the types of guests these parties attracted, including those with connections to the mafia. Many were present this evening, but his building was neutral ground, and given his recent entanglements with the Yakuza boss, he was well aware of the shared motivations to avoid violence.
Shaking off his initial shock, Adrian’s instincts kicked in. He quickly pulled his wallet, activating the near constant link with building’s communication network.
"Security, report,” he demanded, his voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through him.
As reports came in confirming that the rest of the building was secure, Adrian's suspicion of sabotage grew. He instructed security to begin a careful evacuation, ensuring everyone's safety as a priority. They were already present.
"Attention, everyone,” Adrian announced, his voice amplified through the emergency communication system. "Please remain calm. We are experiencing a technical difficulty. Security will assist in an orderly evacuation. The rest of the building is unaffected.”
As people started to move towards the exits, guided by security, Adrian watched closely, his eyes scanning the crowd. He was searching for any sign of foul play, any clue as to what had caused this unprecedented event in his building. Adrian's mind was already racing with next steps – reviewing security footage, checking system logs, liaising with the authorities if needed. This incident was a blemish on his reputation, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.
((ooc: there are three working elevators, you can gather in the elevator lobby))
Alistair and Nadya had found their way back to the bar, making little stops along the way. At each stop, Nadya introduced him; Alistair would stoically say hello, planting the seeds for future success like a farmer sowing a field.
Upon arriving at the bar, they mingled further, with Nadya assessing the room. When Maxsim approached, Nadya leaned in to whisper to Alistair about who Maxsim and his wife were. She insisted he would enjoy them, and the more he enjoyed them, the more they would spend. Alistair might have some fun, too. "Be nice, Alistair," Nadya whispered in his ear with a grin, her lips softly touching his ear.
"Hey, glad you could make it. Hope you and... your... wife?" Alistair greeted her, stopping to kiss her hand. He turned to Nadya with a grin, mockingly playing the part despite his usual reluctance to greet ladies with a kiss. Deep down, he loved it.
As he turned to Nadya, someone caught his eye. It was her. He quickly took note of her location. Now distracted, he turned back to Maxsim, still lingering in her eyes.
"Oh, sorry." He shook off his distraction. "Did you do well that night? I hope you put it all down for me and scored big?" Alistair asked Maxsim, glancing at his wife and then back at Maxsim. He played his role perfectly, portraying himself as larger than life - a figure every man wanted to be or be associated with and every woman desired.
As these conscious and subconscious manipulation moments unfolded, the room suddenly went black. Lights flickered, and the room shook from an explosion. Sounds of drinks falling, gasps, and abruptly ending music filled the air.
In the strobing light, Alistair began to walk away from Nadya. A man bumped into them, sending Nadya in another direction. Alistair spun around to survey the situation, briefly standing still, silent amidst the chaos.
The mishap of course drew attention physical and cyber and Sage slipped out of the system as easily as he had slipped in, except this time he didn't leave his signature behind. This was not an attack for his purpose, no it was a whim. A making a lie a truth or at least an attempt at it. How many places could The Wicked Truth find to solicit a false truth, a thing no one could prove if there was only speculation. Framing a Marvet for another's deeds needed more than just records changed. It needed valid occurances of the man in the presence of unnatural phenomenon. Sage let security guide them wherever they wanted, his attention distracted by searching for Maskim's wallet. It wasn't hard. Russian Mafia be damned -- couldn't be worse than having the entire CCD after you now could it? And Sage was pretty sure if Adrian Kane found him he'd be a little worse for wear too.
Sage slipped an invisible app on the Marveet in questions wallet and even the initial tidbits of information drew a sigh of pleasure from Sage's lips. He was going to fucking love this.
“You can say I did well. The odds were against you.” Maksim showed Alistair a view of his massive garage, holding the collection of multiple exotic supercars. The image was of Maksim himself leaning on his newest acquisition, a Veyron X7, posed in front of the others. As he showed the image to Alistair, he offered an invitation. “I will take you for a ride. You’ll never have as much fun,” he bragged.
He offered Alistair his Wallet contact, and intended to talk more about his next match, and who he was going up against when a familiar face suddenly presented itself to him. His eyes flared wide in surprise and was rendered quite speechless. Of course he recognized Iáson. Maksim’s study trailed up and down his body. This time, though dressed in dark colors, he was just as stylish as he had been in the white suit. Under different circumstances, Maksim might have asked him where he shopped. Instead, he bought his time by deflecting the attention to his wife — who knew he’d been healed by Ascendancy’s “Iáson” and knew that he had revealed his face when he probably shouldn’t — and as Maksim looked at her, he tried to silently convey that’s exactly who was standing in front of them. Strangely, Ezvin appeared moments after Iáson. Of course, he didn’t have time to glean anyone's reaction as the first sparks from an overhead light sprayed down upon them. He flinched immediately to protect Alina. He used his arms to hold over her in an attempt to catch the sparks before they burned her bare shoulders, then he attempted to rush her out of the fiery spray, but no where was safe.
“Fuck me,” he muttered to himself once it was over, shaking his forearms after a spray of the sparks burned his skin. After that, there were a few moments of complete darkness. The party, previously filled with music, then the noise and chaos of the electrical storm, now held its collective breath. Then, one by one, lights erupted from everyone’s Wallet screens. Faces were illuminated in the strange shadows, and Maksim did the same, using it to check on his wife. It was an eerie scene.
He touched her cheek, “Are you okay? Did any of it land on you?” he asked, palms grazing her body carefully even as his own throbbed. If she was hurt, he knew exactly who to ask for help.
The look on his face was plain; Maksim recognized him.
In turn, Jensen became a bundle of nerves. It closed up around his heart like a cage, squeezing out the ability to breathe from the inside. He couldn’t quite run; couldn’t quite speak, and in the moment Ezvin appeared, he knew he would attempt neither.
Like everyone else, he flinched when the lights popped. Sparks made for an orange shower overhead, and on instinct he covered himself, but they floated past him without injury. He was breathing rapidly, turning this way and that only to see the exact same scene played out across the entire party. In the brief, disorienting blackout that followed, Jensen felt a hand on his back, presumably Ezvin’s, trying to offer comfort, protection, or guidance. But fear had gripped him, a fear that was abruptly replaced by a different sensation. Suddenly, something else occupied his mind entirely.
He followed the feeling, weaving through a few people like an arrow on target. He came upon Maksim, feeling his pain through the dark. The Gift within him stirred, a powerful, glorious presence that flowed from Jensen into Maksim. He felt the burns heal, an experience both foreign and intimately familiar, as if he were soothing a part of himself. It was an indescribable feeling; the connection between them was almost spiritual.
But his attention was soon diverted. A series of curses crying of pain nearby cut through the confusion. Jensen turned towards the sound, the Gift’s senses leading him onward. He found a woman injured by the electrical sparks.
Without hesitating, Jensen reached out to hold her hand while the Gift coursed through him. The room was still shrouded in darkness, lit only by the glow of Wallet screens, some angled his direction in an attempt to capture what was happening. As the stood and hugged him, a ripple of shock and awe passed through the onlookers. Murmurs of "What just happened?" and "Did you see that?" surrounded them. A small bubble of Wallet screens formed around him.
Jensen knew the attention he had garnered. The Custody was going to be furious with him, but surely Ascendancy wouldn't want him to walk away. If only he could undo the videos, stop them before they were spread across the whole of the internet, but he knew such a thing was hopeless. A moment of panic threatened his resolve. The room felt too small, too confining. He should leave, escape the inevitable barrage of questions and demands sure to follow. An apology froze on his lips, but it went unspoken. He sighed, pushed to his feet and sought out the next person who needed his help. The circle parted almost reverently as he walked. Someone found him this time, a man whose face was rippled with burns. The Gift left its blessing upon him and Jensen pat him on the shoulder in exchange for the gratitude welling up in his eyes, but before he could continue onward, someone grasped his arm, their grip firm but not unkind. "Please, you have to help," a voice pleaded, almost breathless with worry. It was one of the event staff, her face drawn with concern.
Jensen was being pulled towards the DJ booth, the center of the electrical chaos. The pyrotechnics that had misfired were scattered around like debris. On the floor lay the DJ, clearly in pain, his injuries more severe than all the others. The DJ was surrounded by a small group of people, their faces etched with worry and fear. As Jensen knelt beside him, the DJ's labored breathing and the burn marks on his skin were evident. The severity of the situation hit Jensen – this was more than just a minor injury. Around them, the crowd had formed a semi-circle, their Wallet screens creating a patchwork of shadows and illumination.
The DJ's pained gasps and the anxious faces of the onlookers were the last things he noted as he grasped hurt hands again, but this time, they gripped his tight in return. The familiar sensation of the Gift's healing power flowed through him, more intense this time due to the gravity of the injuries. The DJ's skin began to mend, the burn marks fading as if being erased by an invisible eraser. The DJ's breathing eased, his expression relaxing into one of relief, and he sat up. Around them, the crowd murmured in astonishment, their cameras capturing every moment of the miraculous healing yet again.
As Jensen opened his eyes, he was met with a sea of awe-struck faces. The reality set in; while he was at peace with doing the right thing no matter the implications for himself, a strong sense of vulnerability washed over him.
Climbing to his feet, Jensen continued anyway until everyone who was even mildly injured was restored.
((By the end of this post, I assume most people left the party with Adrian's security, and there are maybe 20-30 people still walking around in the dark room following Jensen around))
As the lights flickered out and chaos erupted, without thinking, Spectra nudged someone into the path of the falling sparks, ensuring her own safety. In the sudden darkness, her heart pounded – not from fear, but from the adrenaline of the unexpected. Spectra had always been good under pressure, keeping a cool head when others might panic. She was fleeing along with many others when she encountered the man she met at Nebesa Casino, and she saw a wicked opportunity. Grabbing his arm, she whispered confidently, "Come with me." Leading him away from the crowd was natural and empowering.
As they wove through the crowd, she made sure to avoid the main exits. Spectra was excited. She cared nothing for those left behind, nor opted to see what happened to them. Being seen with this man in such dramatic circumstances would probably not be good for her image, seeking the company of an unknown, but she also knew the fun of sneaking around.
Once they found a quiet spot away from most people, Spectra allowed herself a moment to process what had just happened. The thrill of the escape mixed with the potential of being alone with the man she previously screwed without so much as sharing names filled her with a thrilling power.
She turned to allow him an opportunity to study the body of a woman he already hooked up with, but then she decided to move nearer, close enough to press her body against his and wrap her arms around his shoulders. “I trust by now you’ve figured out who I am, but I haven’t quite decided if I want to know your name yet. You'll have to convince me you're worth the effort”
((Ooc: Alistair moved with permission. We moved off by ourselves somewhere like a hallway or similar.))
The next thing Max knew, the familiar sensation of healing rushed through his body. It wasn’t as intense as the last time, but it was just as miraculous. He showed the smoothed skin of his arms to Alina but was otherwise just as speechless as before. How had Iáson known to find him? He couldn’t ask, nor could he ask why Iáson was there that night.
Security was organizing people out of the party, and while he was curious about Iáson, he wanted to escort Alina out of there before something else happened. The elevator was almost full when security said there was space for one more occupant.
“You go. I’ll meet you downstairs.” He loathed parting with Alina, but he wanted her safely downstairs as soon as possible. He kissed her on the lips before they separated.
More climbed on the next available elevator, but Maksim hung back, waiting to see if Iáson might come out.