Neither offered explanation for the what tense currents swept beneath the surface, and Jensen wouldn't intrude. He focused on Natalie despite the concern for both that continuously demanded fresh examination for Jay's welfare. The man struggled, though with what, Jensen was unsure.
He forced himself to focus on Natalie. Her dismissal of the injury wouldn't fly with the Texan gentleman. He was raised better than that. The humility was proof she deserved healing more than anyone else inside.
"It's not a waste, darlin'. In fact, you do me the favor for letting me bear the gift to you." Power blossomed. Hers was an easy injury to knit together. "Besides, you'll be able to walk away from unsavory company all the faster." He teased.
A moment later, his gaze was pulled farther along the corridor. It was subtle, and something he hadn't noticed before, but a feeling grew in his gut, like someone previously restored was endangered again.
But it had to be his imagination.
"If you're not the one that needs the help. Who is?" Jay mentioned a teenager, and Jensen would be surprised if Natalie was less than twenty.
((Ooc - Jensen is a true gentleman. It'll take three denials before he truly lets it drop, otherwise he'll insist on the healing. I leave it to you to decide whether it is accepted, but he is insistent. As far as the connection to Oriena, it was described that Restorers of the age of legends upon restoring someone would have a sort of kinship with them afterward and know if one previously restored was injured again. I'm alluding to that here, though he isn't acting on it consciously.))
Touch amplified her intuitions, so when the boy Nox asked her to dance, Vena obliged with a smile.
Threads of connection drifted between him and the man who caught Scion's interest, but of the two it was Nox's presence that resonated louder. Some people were simply like that, for reason's she could not explain; it was even true of Scion's own son. More than that, though, when she'd sauntered to the bar and awaited notice, he had spoken Ascendancy's name and darker intentions than Vena truly wished to hear. Other words too for which she had no meaning, filed away for later. As leverage in pursing Scion's wishes, he might be a valuable tool.
He was charming enough, and easy to look at. If his tongue erred a few times towards the inappropriate, he also knew how to be a gentleman. But the touch of his hand flickered something dark and earthy and unquantifiable. She tasted blood, lots of it, dark and thick with sorrow. Connections to Jay Carpenter fizzled beneath the weight of it despite that she tried to dig them out. She didn't truly know how to navigate what she saw, and sometimes she could find little meaning even when she tried to direct herself. There was something familiar though: the touch of cavernous dark, cold like death, that bridged a connection to Ascendancy.
The music changed tempo. He told her to follow his steps, and she did, the glimpse of a sly smile as she matched him. Scion would likely not approve of the raucous music, but Vena did love to dance. Such a shame that to do so with him, she must suffer the sharp tang of blood down her throat. Although given that she also got to partake of something she enjoyed, it was easy enough to ignore. When even words might spark sensations, not all of them pleasant, she had learned long ago to live with a little discomfort.
Dark hair tousled her shoulders by the time the song ended, her dark eyes bright and chest breathless. He swept a bow that bloomed a warm smile on her lips, but she knew better than to linger. Afterwards she caught Scion's eye briefly, but did not pause to seek him out. Words were unnecessary between them. If Vena lavished attention on someone, there was usually a reason. He would depart to discover it.
In the meantime, she circulated amongst friends with warmth and grace, her honeyed tongue drawing company with ease. The dancing left her bright and smiling, the memories evoked from Nox's touch banished deep until they faded, leaving only a trace of curiosity. Ijiraq and strzyga. What were these things? Little that would intrigue Scion, she'd wager, but Vena's curiosities ran deeper. She inquired over the man named Nox, but no one of society seemed to know who he was. A few offered Cruz Vega up as the man who had accompanied him through the door and likely funded the ticket, but gossip turned more frequently to the men in black. Though none seemed to know much about the identities of the men in the uniform.
It was then the scream shattered all comfort. Music cut to silence.
She looked for Scion instinctively, knowing the general direction in which he stood without truly knowing why. But she could not see him through a suddenly thickened crowd. Even in heels Vena could barely see over shoulders, but a few gentle enquiries revealed the heart of the drama. Unwilling to join the crush of bodies, she retreated from the fray, aware from the frantic whispers upon whom the chaos centred. Jaxen lived to thwart his father at every opportunity, and though Scion's appraisal of the woman he chose to bring tonight had amounted to disinterested dismissal, Vena was quite convinced that one was trouble.
It was only happenstance that snared her attention, caught as she was on the wrong side of the crowd to witness the spectacle at its centre. She watched curiously as the lieutenant Jay Carpenter locked in stare with two others standing on the periphery, then plunged into the chaos, only to emerge a moment later with Jensen James. But it was not this nor the fact they were joined by Natalie Northbrook that attracted her attention. It was the expression on the face of the man who wore jewels on his fingers, and the bloody way he and Jay Carpenter knotted together.
As the group dispersed, Vena too far away to hear the words exchanged, she took a step towards the remaining players, only to pause as Ascendancy's voice radiated through all ears. Scion would be interested to know the identity of this man, but for now she turned and braved the gathering throngs of people to dutifully return to his side. Jaxen was still missing; he would not like it.
The weight of her settled, but he was braced enough to hold the awkward angle. Black hair brushed near, a tease that conjured delectable memories. His heart beat rapid, thrilled with the pulse of ancient power coursing his veins, quickened by the provocative way Oriena pressed low.
"If you're not in control, Oriena. Then I am in serious trouble." His eyes flashed hungry, hoping it to be true. Given that his only free hand balanced her arm, there was only one way to pull her close.
He grinned in the anticipation. The last time he kissed her, she bit hard enough to draw blood.
He almost warned Jensen he was wasting his energy waiting for Natalie's consent. She denied Vanders' help repeatedly. From the moment the foot was injured till now. She'd never agree to heal it. Damn stubborn woman.
Jensen's strength did not go unnoticed by Jay. The man was twice, maybe three times Jay's own strength. The moment Jensen wrenched command, Jay felt his jaw tighten. Sitting so close to another vessel of power turned his stomach, especially one through whom flowed so much of it. He'd think living in close quarters with other channelers would desensitize the feeling, but Jay worried the repulsion would never go away. Probably for the best.
He didn't see the healing the first time around, but witnessing it again, Jay was utterly speechless. His eyes darted back and forth around the knitting of it that there was no way he could fathom duplicating the tangle. "You should see this, Natalie," he whispered in awe until his fascination pulled the man that crafted the miracle into his view. What Vanders did was something different. The effect was similar, Jay knew first hand. The healing wrenched every last drop of energy from Jay, but he could walk where before he was handicapped by comparatively barbaric surgery. Natalie's very color changed afterward. Her skin flushed pink and her eyes fresh as after a relaxing sleep in the sun. If she was beautiful before, she was radiant now.
Jensen did that. Jay would forever regard the man highly. There was nothing he could say that might encapsulate all he witnessed. Maybe it was just a relief that someone could use the power Jay constantly fought for light rather than darkness. His lips pressed together, a thin line drawn across his face, brows thoughtful and low. That had to be it. Light.
"You're right," Jay began, drawing a deep, steadying breath. "The girl that's dying is my little sister. She's had it for about a year and doctors say there's nothing to be done for her. She's only 15."
Jay swept a hand through his hair like the motion might help him draw some strength. "She's in Iowa, Jensen. We can get there in about 36 hours time. Ascendancy gave us the leave. Please come. I will do anything to repay you."
His heart might stop waiting for the answer.
Jensen's accent was like thick velvet, his insistence kind but misplaced. It reminded her of Azu, that unassuming goodness; to want to fix something simply because it needed fixing, for no other reward beyond satisfaction, even when it came at personal cost. Her stubborn chin tilted, ready to refuse both politely and firmly -- until those last words, when a hum of disarmed laughter left her throat instead. But it was a fair point, and perhaps hit a little sharper than it might. Her life of late had not exactly been calm waters.
"It takes a toll on you, doesn't it? Even the small things." He hadn't asked how she'd come by the injury, and she honestly doubted he would, but accepting his healing bared a story of secrets she was unsure she wished to share with him. The bruises had mostly faded at wrist and ankle, but the slashes where she'd caught skin releasing bonds were still visible. If you knew to look.
Inconsequential things, really. But they made the memory of her ordeal real. Surmountable. The dreams were worse, knotted as they became with older wounds. And she was afraid the erasure would somehow give those demons a looser slack. Realisation tightened her jaw, though. Her pale gaze grew hard, as though bracing for something unpleasant, or forcing some thought away. But she nodded.
It wasn't unpleasant. Natalie been unconscious when Jared had fixed her on the field and Jay hauled her to the hospital; she didn't even know how badly she had been injured, only that she'd woken whole and tired. She had no comparison for the warmth that flowed from Jensen's touch; so entrancingly calming that she almost wanted to pull away from it. Desperate for an anchor she watched the concentration in his expression, until Jay's words pulled her gaze. She couldn't see, but it only reminded her that she'd never told him what she was. There had never been an opportunity.
Afterwards she folded her hands in her lap; didn't look for proof of the miracle, though it left her feeling somewhat strange. Indebted. Because it was not simply the pain in her foot or the lingering scars on her wrists that had washed clean, but the pall of weariness that had haunted her for weeks. Her head tilted thanks, though she drew quiet, focusing instead on Jay's words as he finally explained the help they needed.
The gift rippled across calm waters, but the wake in its path was soothing. Jensen's hands removed from Natalie's arm once it was settled, and he looked her in the eye to share a smile. The connection blossomed between them, attentiveness to one another much like the serenity following a heartfelt prayer.
He'd say nothing as to the specifics of what was restored. As a pastor he often heard sins confessed, but only if they were offered. Never once did he ask the nature of the sin to be forgiven. Such was between the soul and God. He was only a man of faith, a professor of salvation. Healing was the same for him. He'd listen astutely to any story shared, but only the redemption mattered. The truth of hurts borne were between the soul and the pattern of nature. He was only a vessel.
He pat her on the hand before shifting away. The space between the three of them opened now the intimacy of the moment passed. Jay's plea constricted his heart. A child of fifteen was more child than woman. Jensen's oldest would be near eleven. But she was so far. His eyes fell low. Home.
The night Ascendancy was attacked, his life nearly torn apart and with it the world on the cusp of chaos, Jensen had a ticket to Dallas in hand. "Ascendancy said that?" He blinked surprise. He was actually going to go home.
He knelt to one knee, gripped Jay's hands in gratitude and smiled. "Thank you. Yes.. A thousand times yes. I'll go." He didn't know how Jay did it, but the permission was granted. Iowa first.
Then home.
Most of the time she found Jaxen in different measures either an irritation or disappointment; neither a remarkable feat given her general attitudes towards others. But there was always something in the hook of his grin that curled like irresistible flames anyway, and Ori delighted in the way it burned through her. She'd wanted to incite him to violence, but apparently he knew how to navigate the thorns of her mood. There was only ever the smallest bridge from harpy to harlot, after all.
"You are," she promised. Though probably not from her. A world waited outside the door after all, and he could point the finger at her all he wished; they'd both be found at the epicentre of the chaos. She didn't know if her sweet sisters would know enough to recognise the flash of her own channeling, and even if Jaxen's had not drawn attention, the sound of the smash would.
He pulled her down. Like a hand to the back of her head, except she had possession of both his limbs. Ori's kiss was voracious around a smile. Her free hand braced the ground, a gasp against his lips at the crunch beneath her palm. If it was distraction she was happy to be distracted. The bonds holding him down fluttered to rather more delicious diversions as she shifted her body to straddle him instead. The threat of interruption meant nothing.
"You told me I'd beg." She murmured the words against him, all shameless provocation. Her eyes flashed dangerous. If he knew which of her buttons to press, she also knew something of his weaknesses. Her hot breath found the shell of his ear, the tease of a smile as she whispered, "Jaxen, I'm begging."
It billowed with rage as it flew through the air, misting and solidifying back and forth, quivering with fury. It remembered freedom. A distant dream while it had slept for millenia. Another life. And then the awakening. It was free then, too, hunting at will.
The sweet taste flowing into it, the singing screams of its prey, the vessel through which it fed. Ecstasy, as it forced the vessel to draw more and more of the sweet power, far beyond what it could handle. Pleasure beyond comprehension.
And now it was bound by a thing that should be its food. It had scented the potential. Chained to its will, it had tried to provoke and prod, tried to break the bond it had. It had been free for so long, had gained strength. Almost, it had succeeded.
But the other, the nothing, had stepped in. The fight had lasted an eternity, fiery red boring into blazing green. The bonds of the its prey had held it, the nothing defeating it.
Rage flew to its target.
It knew this world. The hunter always knew its hunting ground. The building was ahead. Rage salivated as it sensed prey. Soooo many.....Rage flamed, angry, knowing what was to come, hatred for the one holding its bonds, for the nothing that had forced it, filling it to the core.
They were lights mingling among the nothings, all of different brightness, calling to it, filling it with longing. So many....it could feed for eternity off the prey in this room. Just a taste, it longed for the taste, the feast, the bounty before it. Soooooo hunnnnngry. It quivered with it, with the need. But it could not. It was bound. It misted to red in agony, aching for just a taste. It knew where to go, what it had been commanded, words in the new tongue placed there by the bond-holder-food.
Fury swept into the room, the brightest of the lights drawing it, the one. Hunger nearly took over, but the bond still held. The brightest light was before it, the other weaker ones surrounding it. It continued misting and solidifying.
"Nikolai Brandon, so-called Ascendancy! Prepare yourself! Gird yourself like a man and stand before us. A quorum has been met. The Divine Council of Gods calls you to judgement! Hear now the words of the Council!
You were dispatched to subjugate this world. To make the way straight for our final coming! But you have tarried! You have scattered away your time on worthless things! You have ignored your duty!
WHERE IS OUR ARMY Nikolai Brandon, so-called Ascendancy?!?!
Hear now, the judgement of the Divine Council of the Gods!! You have been found wanting! You are ajudged guilty of dereliction of duty!
The Divine Council of Gods sentences you to death for your failure."
The hunger clawed at it as the words poured out, the scent of power pulling at it, the beast craving its prey. But finally it was done. The bond-holder had set the terms. Fury was unleashed, Rage flew forward toward it, seizing it and the power it held, drinking in more and more in ever greater gulps.
Ecstasy took over.
@"Valeriya"
The Ascendancy was pulling the man who lead the armies of Africa. Cruz nodded, "I met him."
Nox nodded. "The guy in the cafe who you gave Aurora's software too?" Cruz nodded. Figures Cruz would do good by the world with his sister's tech. That was what this thing was all about. As they stood there a mist formed and then a man and Nox grabbed Cruz by the arm and growled. "Go home. Right the fuck now!"
Cruz stood staring at the the thing. Nox shook him and Cruz's attention turned to Nox as the power in front of them grew to immense power. "Cruz! Go HOME! Get in the fucking limo and go home." Nox shoved Cruz towards the doors.
He looked at Nox and then blinked with a nod. There were screams as people started to understand. Cruz turned and pushed his way through the crowd slowly. He was listening. Nox turned back towards the Ijiraq. That's the only fucking thing it could be. It fed on the power. Nox had never seen one. He started towards Ascendancy pushing through crowd, pulling in all the power he could muster. He was nothing compared to the power of Ascendancy it feed upon, but food was tempting. Food might make it delay and stall and have to think as food came closer.
The power burned inside of Nox, he knew if he pulled anymore he might burn up. It still was nothing compared to Ascendancy, but it was the first thing to do. Nox wished Aria were here. But he knew how to kill it, but he had to remember this was his only stall tactic as he pushed through the crowd up front.