The First Age

Cruz smirked at Jensen. "I have a willing guinea pig. Though he's busy dancing. He loves a good experiment."
Though Cruz was pretty sure Nox wouldn't like being the guinea pig, though he'd been healed before - several times if Nox's stories were all true. He missed his sister, Cruz could see that every time he told one of those stories.

Cruz asked, "How did you learn to do this? Like what prompted you. Me and my dad, can't figure out what I did, or when. But he knew the signs and found me help immediately."
, while they waited for Nox to finish whatever it was he was doing. Cruz might never know what he did to trigger the curse he now called a gift. His father was missing and it was probably all his fault. But this was not the time to dwell on that.

The change in music didn't seem to have bothered anyone, and the site of swing dancing in the middle of the dance floor didn't really seem to catch any attention. It made Cruz chuckle, so much for his draw of attention.

The big man got gruff but the cop, that's who he was a cop - detective... But Ursula didn't remember his name. That was probably for the better.

Her escort looked a little shell shocked as the officer took her to a table. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." Which was the absolute true she had only wanted to hear what they were saying, but she hadn't caught anything, and their conversation was halted the moment she bumbled into them.

She sat and let the detective fawn over her for a little while before she waved her body over. He was at least tight in all the right places. She gave him a bright smile. "Perhaps I'll run into you again." Ursula gave a small laugh, "Though maybe not so literally."

Ursula waved her hand as a man she knew passed. "A pleasure." She said to the officer then was off to chit chat ever so politely unphased by the drink with the man who was passing. Prominence over Yun Kao's objectives. They weren't talking anymore and she had no reason to play nice.

The woman- yeah, pretty hot if a bit old for him- let him go. Paid for pretty boy was suddenly solicituous. Prolly realized that he had to actually play the role if he wanted to hit that.

Anyway, Ryker vanished too. He'd see him again, he was sure. Ivan was still pissed. But something had shifted, a bit anyway. Yun would not keep the upper hand.

And....well, there was something else. He couldn't put his finger on it. But something had occurred to him. Something.

Anyway, he was in a free place, now. Floating. But not in a good way. No. He wanted to do something....wrong. Like he had broken free. Fuck Brandon. Fuck the CCD. Fuck it all. This was his city. If his holiness couldn't or wouldn't get his head out of his ass, well, Ivan would do it. His people. Fuck anyone who was gonna get in his way.

He was walking a bit faster, though to nowhere specific. He accidently bumped into a gorgeous brunette with eyes like the sky in storm.

Her glass dropped from her hand and instinctively he snatched it with the power before it hit the ground.

"I'm sorry, miss."
Without a thought, he grabbed another glass from a tray. It floated toward her. He gave her a smirk and raised an eyebrow.

Fuck, but he felt good. Showing off felt good too.


Edited by Ivan Sarkozy, Jul 23 2018, 03:53 PM.

The Ascendancy's guard dogs retreated as Ryker advanced. He was careful to not meet any of their eyes, though. If even one of them sniffed a hint of malice, they would intervene despite Brandon's orders to the contrary. That's how they operated. If the rumors were true, that Brandon dismissed his protectors the night the Kremlin was attacked, they were unlikely to allow dismissal a second time.

Brandon's invitation was met with the kind of smile before a satisfying kill. When they clasped hands, it was effort to not crush the soft bones beneath. The compliment accepted with a nod as he settled into the relaxed stance of a soldier soon after.

"Pleasure, madam."
The deepness of his voice growled a predator's greeting to Evelyn.

He drank in the sight of the woman. Her mouth, her neck. The curve of her body. The warmth of her skin. "A pleasure indeed. I can see why Ascendancy keeps you to himself."


He laughed then, "I'm sorry. A poor joke at his expense."
He captured the man's eyes once more, exerting the will that he agree.

Evelyn tensed when Ryker drew near. The crawl of his eyes made her skin itch. His idea of a greeting was not appropriate, and she crossed her arms in response. How could Nikolai think this man a hero? She guessed it had something to do with his facial injuries, the kind that burned. But by fire or by chemical, he had no right to treat her with anything less than respect.

She wondered whether Nikolai found the poor joke humorous. Surely he was too refined for such debasement. Everything about him was formal, at least to all but what he showed her in confidence.

“A pleasure,”
she responded in like kind, voice tight.

Her lips flickered a smile, tickled by his morbid humour and the flat way he offered it. Her dry reply was equally serious. Such bleak reminisces, but not ones she chose to pull away from, nor the connections such horrors ultimately wrought. "Beware the wrathful of vengeance of children armed with machetes. We should really write these down."
Her hands drifted from their purchase, found a careful compromise where they couldn't be tempted by soft black cloth or the body within. She didn't crave distance, but it was probably necessary. Restraint was more difficult than it ought to be.

His next words struck a wary cord. Lust she knew how to deal with; lust she understood. But he smoothed her hair with too much affection, too much tenderness. And he looked too deeply; deep enough she began to wonder what it was he saw. She wasn't built of girlish fantasies; it was not an idealist's heart beating shallow in her chest, and the flutter spread from that touch was dangerous. Her instinct was to shy away from it. Brush it off. It was only a kiss after all, an ephemeral captivation. Just one she couldn't break away from, nor discovered she truly wanted to.

In those seconds she weathered the uncertain path of her own emotions; for once let it wash over her and leave her standing, curious, in its wake. By now Jay's expression held an introspection she would not interrupt, and truthfully she was glad of the moment to collect herself. Her gaze held him steady until he resurfaced, rising awkwardly from the intimate moment. He scrubbed his hair, half tripped over his own tongue. Natalie laughed. "Be the perfect gentleman, I'm sure,"
she finished for him. Amusement twinkled like morning frost in her pale eyes. Because it had been her kiss that first demanded more, and her fingers that plucked at the knot apt to unravel them both. The tease of her expression writ no apology for it either.

He finally stepped back, easing rumpled clothing back into respectable shape with a snap of black sleeves. He knew how the shadows of the uniform accentuated him; the telltale smirk said as much. But she indulged him anyway, pale gaze making an open and appreciative roam of the various shades of dark; the textures and stitching, the flashes of undulating silver. That heartbreak grin.

Compliments were hard won treasures from her lips, though they curled slyly at the invitation. "Jay."
The way she said it captured the softness of that now fading heat, like silk on skin. "Don't ask me questions like that if you want me to let you out of this room any time soon."


He beckoned with the crook of an arm, unperturbed. She hadn't taken it before simply because of how much she'd wanted to. Tight buttoned control warned her away from peering over the sort of height that smashed hearts on impact. Still did, really. She knew her limits. But the past few moments swept away caution on wind-tossed waves. So when her reaction was not immediate, it was no longer because she contemplated self-preservation. Tease lit the apparent indecision, playful rather than cruel. But it was really no decision at all; or if it ever was, it had been cemented in time long before now.

Her arm laid pale against his, the pearlescent embroidery of her sleeve like snow on dark fields.

"I wasn't joking about enemies earlier, you know. I don't know half the people in there, but they all have long memories. Even for half-buried scandals. You'd be hard pressed to pick worse company."
She was deaf to the scavenger peck of rumour by now, but he was fresh meat to the carnage; a relative unknown elevated to Nikolai Brandon's side. They'd tear apart his past given half a chance, and cannibalise what they found to utilise for gain. Natalie's name was a shield and gleaming armour, but beneath that she was still a terrorist's daughter. The dirty entrails of that cold fact would be pressed into service if the predator's sniffed advantage in it, whether there was truth in the leverage they fabricated or not.

She glanced up at him, doubting he'd take any of that seriously. But the warning was light anyway; she was confidant enough she could navigate this battlefield.

Her foot stung beneath her weight, but not enough to encourage a flicker of it on her expression as they began to make their way back. It didn't seem Brandon had gotten far ahead of them. Grouped in the shadows of the grand walkway he stood in conversation with another man, Evelyn still at his side. She looked uncomfortable, her arms folded, and for that Natalie almost paused. The man to whom Brandon spoke had a thick web of scars over his face; someone important if he were allowed to wander beyond the bounds of the party. Perhaps someone dangerous to have earned those markings. But they passed the trio without incident, until they stepped back over the threshold into another world.

If Brandon's absence from his own fundraiser was noted by his guests, it was not evident. The merriment continued, the music brisk and dancers breathless, the drink still flowing thick amidst laughter and preening. Her gaze washed against it dully, though she did catch the incidental stare of one man in particular. Walls built a fortress; by now, Natalie's expression retreated to its absent stillness. Did he see a woman keeping her promise? Or battle lines? Her attention swept away without an answer.

"Do you see Jensen?"

Jensen wasn't comfortable thinking about using the gift as an experiment on someone. Although, that was probably the best description of how he came to use it in the first place. Cruz's question triggered a memory about that first time that Jensen was none too keen to elaborate upon.

"Need is a powerful motivator,"
was all he explained. The pop of gunshots flashed his memory. The meaty neck of that boy torn loose. Even the footfalls when he ran away completely restored pounded fresh as yesterday in his mind.

As far as using the gift to explore the wounded or sick, he was free to elaborate. "I suppose I have never attempted to separate the two abilities: examination and healing were always hand-in-hand. I could try."


An idea came to him, "I could try on you if you'd like? I don't know if you would learn anything from the experience, but it's worth trying."

Danika thanked the couple that were so cool after she made an idiot of herself in front of them. The girl had a kind smile and the guy was dressed in an uniform that Dani did not recognize at all. When he went off to get a drink of water, Danika shifted in her seat uncomfortably. The girl tried to talk to them, but Danika put a hand to her lips and whispered a question for Marcus.

“You know how ethanol inhibits the antidiuretic hormone receptor?”
Her big brown eyes locked at him pointedly, a cheesy smile on her lips.

“Could you do me a favor and show me where the restrooms are?”


He luckily was kind enough to go with her most of the way. She reached for another champagne along the way, but somehow lost track of it soon after.

A warm smile thanked him before ducking inside. Once at the sink and washing up, the lady checking her hair in a mirror caught her eye.
“Are you the Consul’s date?” Her accent was so heavy, Dani wasn’t sure she understood. Sluggish thoughts were likely involved.

“I guess you could say so?”
She replied and checked her hair just like her sink-neighbor. The other woman, in a deep red dress capped with dozens of diamonds, blinked like it was her turn to not understand.

Danika nodded, “Yes. Yes I am.”


The woman gasped, “he’s so hot. I don’t know how you can’t keep your hands off him.” The woman left a moment later. Danika was alone blinking at her reflection. Marcus was … attractive, now that she thought of it. Not that she hadn’t thought of it, but the idea that putting her hands on him was even a possibility, let alone unable to stay off of him, seemed impossible until now.

They had danced, though. She recalled the swell of muscle beneath the cut of his tuxedo. She splashed a few drops of water on the back of her neck before leaving.

She caught the profile of him waiting patiently when she returned. The glow of crystalline light caught the planes of his jaw.

She smiled when she came closer. “Thank you. I may have had some drinks to take the edge off before coming tonight. I was pretty nervous.”
She laughed slightly more at ease now that they were freed from the confines of the grand hall.


[[Marcus moded with permission.]]

There was a sudden look of fear. Nox was one of those explosive guys the thought of using a weave on another person was deadly.

Cruz seized the force with in. It struggeled and it fought against him but Cruz had it ready in moments. No longer long seconds of trying, all those trip wires and explosive around the house were paying off as practice. Especially when Nox made him grab the source of their power each time. It was tiring work, but it was worth it in the end, maybe Nox knew a little about what he was doing.

Nox had shown him a weave he'd seen used on himself. He couldn't do it himself and Cruz hadn't been honest with Nox, Nova had been his experiment a few times. The pup just thought Cruz was petting him. He didn't care.

He wove the small healing weave that had healed Nox's cut. "Nox learned this from a ship captain, I can see how parts of it functions. Does it heal? Does it look like anything you've done?"


Cruz looked at Jensen. "I get you think you need a body, but the weave is there, it'll form, just do nothing. If there's anything I've learned from Nox it's that the power is something to be afraid of, it can do some horrible things, but you healed the Ascendancy."
The last was said in an utter whisper. "Can you try without a body? if it fails we'll find someone. I can't learn if I can't see it."
Cruz was almost begging.

[[ I don't know Manix's healing ability, so assume it's the lesser version not the age of legends healing type skill jensen has. ]]

Danika's large dark eyes filled his gaze and for a moment, the rest of the room disappeared. Malik and Marcus smiled, eyes trapped by hers.

And he didn't understand a single word of what she had just whispered to him, the feel of her lips hovering near his ear ghostly, her slight breath tickling. He felt warmth suffuse him. It was not impossible that the champagne had affected him more than he realized. But that was ok. Tonight was an experiment in experience. As both men. He laughed. "What's that now?"


She clarified her request and he rose, offering his hand to help her up. He wasn't sure how steady she was on her feet. He gave his respects to the legionnaire and Ms. Shale before escorting her to the ladies room.

"I'd be careful if I were you,"
he said with a grin, when she snared another drink. "I might just get you to sing karaoke in front of the Ascendancy tonight."
He winked at her with a smile. Malik laughed too. And I might get you out of that dress he pointedly did not say. She was breathtaking. She would be enjoyable, those big dark eyes filled with pleasure, that beautiful mouth on his.

While he waited for her, Marcus watched the guests. The Force filled the air. It seemed everyone was having fun showing off. On a whim, he seized it himself. The entire room came to life. The light scents of various perfumes and colognes were noticeable, not a few with the latest biochemical enhancing properties. As if that were needed.

The creme de la creme were here, the most powerful people in the world. In the main, the men's clothing were rather the same, though a few here and there tried to stand out. The women, though, were a different story. They outdid each other, decked out in jewels, hair styles as varied as one could imagine. Necklines plunged or didn't, bodices hugged and suggested or simply enhanced.

Alexandrova, hair like the sun at sunset wore a dark green dress that showed off her svelte figure. Malik grinned. She was fucking hot. Especially for a woman in her 50's. He had hopes there, though he doubted they would ever come to fruition. She was far too calculating to play games. Leonid was almost forgettable standing next to her, holding court to various men and women.

Members of the Sphere, Privileges, Consuls and their dates, captains of industry all milled about. Anatoly Yushakov, Bykov's director of Media Affairs, stood out, the cut of his tuxedo, the color of his tie- massive pearl stud in the center- and pocket square marking him as someone used to attention. Scion Marveet was not hard to find. He noted the Rods walking the floor, black coats fitted and impressive. When Sanjay caught his eye, he nodded, raising his glass in the man's direction. How his new position would work with his responsibilities at the Consulate, they'd have to figure out. The man was a gifted teacher.

Natalie was on the arm of Jay Carpenter. The man was good looking enough. But next to her, he simply disappeared. His eyesight sharpened, noticed the body language. Oh ho....interesting. He wasn't sure whether that was something he could use. She was still an enigma to him.

Danika returned. The force flowing through him let notice the scent of her, smile on her face. She had no need of any biochemical enhancement or any artifice to command attention. And yet what he found most alluring was how innocent she was to it all. As if she didn't know what she was.

He gave her his arm and led her to one of the balconies so they could talk in private. It was only slightly chilly and he offered her his coat just in case.

He looked into her eyes, studying her. Malik smiled, touched her arm at the elbow slightly. "You are from Chicago, yes? Me too."



Edited by Marcus DuBois, Jul 25 2018, 03:30 PM.