The First Age

(Very small amount of modding here)

So there she was, at the side of Mr. Tall, dark and handsome -- who'd just casually brushed off Yuri as if he didn't matter. That wasn't fair at all. He'd captured Specta's attention first. He'd gotten her all warmed up, and the newcomer was trying to peel her away all for himself.

No, that wasn't going to work out at all. Especially because of those smoky hot looks Spectra continued to send in Yuri's direction. Like she wanted Yuri to stop the man. Maybe the dude was into kiddie porn or had blackmail on her or something. In any event, Yuri didn't like him. He didn't follow directions very well. I said to fetch the water, not take her to it, asshole.


The notion Spectra was perhaps just messing with Yuri to see how far he'd go never entered Yuri's drug-addled mind. Which, although it didn't show all that much, it was screaming along at a pretty steady high. He'd laced his own drink earlier. The ecstacy of riding the power didn't exactly help with his mental clarity either.

He channeled.

Far down at the end of the hall, the hallway opened into a sitting area with four swinging glass doors that led to the balcony beyond. Those doors suddenly swung inward as fierce gusts of wind forced their way into the penthouse suite from the outside. Napkins, food and drinks went flying in the sitting room, the cracking of crystal and china on the floor left as evidence of the wind's passage. The gale-force wind hurtled its way down the hall, knocking both Yellow Eyes and the other man aside, ripping Spectra from his grasp and sending her staggering, unbalanced, in Yuri's direction.

Yuri himself staggered. That had been more powerful than he'd planned it to be. He quickly recovered and snaked out a hand to wrap around Spectra's waist, catching her from a nasty fall.

"I got you, lady,"
he said as he helped her to her feet and unwrapped his arm from her waist, sending a look toward a man who'd been slammed against a wall that said, some protector you are.
. "That was some crazy weather there. I heard there's strange currents at high altitude."


He delicately turned her to meet his eyes. "But don't worry, you're safe when I'm around."
Yeah, beat that, mister broad shoulders.


Edited by Yuri Obrechennyy, Nov 15 2013, 12:28 PM.

A few minutes and Jaxen quickly figured out the Privilege was not here. All this hype for a big fat nothing. Well. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window - unconstrained hair, smouldering eyes, ornery expression, and a shimmering red jacket - definitely not for nothing.

At least the champagne was decent. His fingers twiddled through three tart glasses before he finally felt the pleasant return of disinhibition squeezing his mind with warmth. Oriena, the social little butterfly that she was, nestled herself someplace with a view while Jaxen found himself pulled into a mob of bodies, laughter, and decadence.

Through square shoulders and piles of hair, he checked up on her once in a while. She appeared none too entertained. Even with a spectacle such as himself to tantalize the senses. Which was how he came up with the idea to raise the stakes a little. This would be the second show of the night he'd put on for her. Surprisingly, he didn't mind the effort. Not when the pay offs were so fucking fun.

"Zayed!"
he exclaimed, arms thrown excitedly wide in the air upon greeting a generally well-recognized face. Zayed was a government Assistant Custody Attorney: known enough to throw some weight around, but not so high and mighty as to make fake knowing the man implausible. The Muslim fellow's face blanked briefly during Jaxen's familiar welcome. However the fact that they'd never met before now was quickly erased from the weasley little man's expression. He would rather play along than offend some nouveau riche fucker. And dressed as outrageously as he was, Jaxen was certainly a member of the club.

"Marveet. Jaxen Marveet. That thing two months ago, yes?!"
Jaxen planted assurances in the man's head. Hilarious that a lawyer didn't catch on to the trick. All the more ridiculous that the man never felt the cup of Jaxen's palm wrench a ten thousand dollar timepiece off the man's wrist while they shook hands. He drew a long, elated breath, beaming with satisfaction all the while.

He pulled Custody Attorney Zayed into his side and laid an arm around his shoulder, leading him toward the edge of the throng amid small talk and catching up on one another's families. The laces of the man's shoes were tied up bunny-ear style. Which meant he either had a rough time learning how to tie his shoes or he had a kiddo crawling around the house at home. A lucky shot the man did in fact have kids. While Jaxen was tuning out the details about some sort of piano recital, he dangled the expensive silvery band that formerly occupied the man's wrist behind his back as they walked away, and flashed Oriena a disappointed look on Zayed's behalf. Poor dumb fucker.

Jaxen could care less about pocketing a watch. What the hell was he going to do with something like that? So after another twenty seconds of tuning out the man's story about some kid named Balal or Babal or whatever, Jaxen shoved him away and hopped onto target number two. Where another series of friendly patdowns led to straightening the man's pocket square, trading drinks from hand to hand, pointing out a smudge on his cufflink, and finally strapping Zayed's watch on the man's free arm without his noticing. Early birthday brother. Hope the good lawyer doesn't catch you with his shit before the night is over.

He milled about for another few minutes, assuming Oriena would be mildly entertained for at least as long as Jaxen was while swapping goods from one oblivious body to another. All in plain sight, of course. The art of distraction was his play, not the sleight of hand, though he was a master at both. He wasn't a fucking magician. But he did get a kick out of illusion.

On his bucket list was to pick something off every person that sat their lazy ass on a seat of the Sphere, and of course the Ascendancy himself. But without a Privilege present, even Jaxen grew bored. Before abandoning the mischief altogether, he sized up almost everyone in sight one last time, including the servers, for a final chance at some fun. There was only one last interesting looking fellow in the whole bunch. Some guy shoveling food in his mouth like he hadn't eaten all day. Jaxen's eyes narrowed with intrigue and touched a hand to an eager stomach. Hungry and bored. That meant there was only one obvious alternative. Get a snack.

The guy plucking his way through the spread was one ugly son of a bitch. Or well, maybe he wasn't so bad. But Jaxen couldn't get past the guy's polyblend threads. Big fellow too. As Jaxen was not too interested in getting punched in the face any time soon, he meant to keep an eye on the big black bear. It was a good reason to stay wary of someone, but there were little things about the guy that tripped Jaxen's urge to do something daring. The clothes were only part of it. This was a fellow undisturbed by the lack of socializing. A little bubble of space had formed around him, and he hadn't even known it. The way he stood. And his survey of the room. So like Jaxen's. This was a guy who saw more than most. He had cop written all over him. Or worse, detective.

Jaxen itched to know how good he was. From a Tahitian beauty on the way over, Jaxen snagged what was at least a twenty-carat diamond ring from her finger after kissing the back of her hand. Rings were the easiest to get off, though he was tempted to go for the matching 200 carat necklace draped into her cleavage. He winked at Oriena after walking away with the little sparkling prize now concealed in his pocket. The necklace he'd get later.

Jax hopped up to the stretch of food alongside the potential cop, pat the guy on the back of the shoulder and leaned around him, taking in a good long whiff of scents. Middle eastern spice tantalized. Oriental ginger zinged. Breads and cheeses glistened. "You, sir, have the right idea! What's your recommendation here, brother?"
He asked black bear, gesturing over the array with his freed hand and with the hidden dropped the diamond ring in his pocket while his mind turned over the questions, distracted with framing his answer.

About then, a blast of air threw open the doors, sending skirts high, jostling bodies out of the way, and shoving champagne from trays in showers of shattered glass.

Jaxen steadied himself against the table and gasped in surprise like everyone else, but it wasn't the shocking breech of weather that seized his muscles tight with adrenaline. It was the curtain of cords shooting through the space that drew him like a moth to a bright flame.

Like a good hero should, he left Drayson behind and bounded to Oriena as though to make sure his date was alright, but as he cupped her elbow in his palms, he whispered the epiphany, fire frolicking true revelry in his eyes. "Small fucking world,"
he grinned mischievously and pulled her onward.

They rounded the corner where the source of what he'd felt originated, and realizing who was there, Jaxen stopped dead in his tracks. "Small. Fucking. World."
He said to himself as a brief flash of fear darkened his expression. Though Oriena at his side likely heard, and saw, he recovered quickly, and was once more the smirking shield of himself.

A lonely napkin curled on the air between the two groups before coming to rest in the aftermath of the unnatural gust of wind. Somehow, White was going to blame this on him. Well. If he was going to be punched in the face, he might as well look good right up until the moment of. He crossed his arms and dipped a nonchalant shoulder against the wall. "Hand to God, White."
He called down the hall. Was that Spectra fucking Lin? Damn. "I didn't do it."
The other two he studied thoroughly meanwhile. Unless White was in the closet, one of the other two idiots was like Jaxen. Figuratively, anyway. Nobody was like Jaxen.



<small>((Oriena and Drayson's moding done with permission))</small>


Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Nov 16 2013, 09:45 AM.

The scent of growing threat heightened Silas' alarm. His vision sharpened in response and honed in on both men even as he retreated an additional step. His gaze cut sharply to Spectra, urging the female away from the dogfight sure to break at any moment. A delicate creature as she was certain to be ripped to shreds as teeth gnashed over her.

The seconds grew painfully slow, and Silas' control stretched in the scents of cold animosity and careful consideration. The man in him separated the knowledge of instinct from the obvious: both men's expressions were blank as snow, yet they they were poised to strike as any pair circling one another in the darkness.

His fists clenched at his sides, blood boiling with the need to fight. Golden eyes swarmed to three warm throats, salivating over the lines of soft flesh. A small snarl betrayed his imagination as his mouth was pulled high along the spikes of rabid teeth. Finally, the penthouse itself dissolved into the rocky, pitiful desert of the Ethiopian highlands.

'Attack!' he barked mentally. Rip! Shred! Blood! Die! - but nothing. The scent of fight washed away as cleanly as flood waters pouring across the flatlands.

Newcomer was leaving with the bitch. Fine. Silas only used her to torment Yuri. But his competition rallied, suddenly spiking a scent of determination. The fight was not yet done. Silas' snarl grew wider.

Tight with anticipation, his head snapped in the direction of the forthcoming wind seconds before it actually disturbed the air.

He stepped center hall to greet it.

Feet planted, the gust howled across his winds, whipped his fur flat to his spine, and carried the scents of far off countryside that churned his grip on humanity far afield.

His eyes stung at the force of it, yet on they welcomed the pain. His body twitched to leap and run, but captured by two walls, instead he only laughed.

And laugh he continued until the wind died. Then the shot the two men a gleeful look, and responded to Yuri's proclamation about Spectra's safety.

"Don't be too sure of that," his lips pulled back into a smile. If a wolf could smile.

He slapped his clothing back to place and began to leave, but not two steps forward and the way was blocked by some rich pup and a woman cold and mysterious as a beam of moonlight.

Fuck Spectra Lin. This bitch was the one he wanted.

Jaxen was correct in his assessment of Drayson. The 'big black bear' was the sort of fellow who saw more then most. He looked at the crowd and wasn't distracted by individual beauty and expensive baubles. He made note of the individuals involved of course; he was of a powerful enough position that he had met many of these people before, if only in passing. A few had even made the mistake of visiting him in private; having a Chief Inspector in your back pocket was never a bad thing. None had liked his reception of their advances.

What he noticed as he studied the crowd was who spoke with whom, the not-so-subtle spiking of drinks, the secretive alliances and icy stares some shared. And of course the flamboyant social butterfly that danced about the room shaking hands and kissing palms under the almost bored gaze of a woman that had been afforded no shortage of surprised looks. And a few worried ones to boot.

True to form, there were things that Drayson could allow himself to ignore. Like the flamboyant fellow's lifting of an expensive watch. The man...no, the child, was probably some trust-fund baby who had everything handed to him on a silver platter. Hence why he was flittering about causing trouble; out for the rush and bragging rights likely. If the victims were honest working folks, Drayson wouldn't have hesitated to drag the kid in. In this venue however, he didn't care if the child wanted to shine for his lady friend.

Drayson's presence was enough to break up the little social circles that formed; he would step in, all warm smile and politeness, asking this minister or that lawyer seemingly innocent questions that fell uncomfortably close to the sorts of dealings they didn't want someone like Drayson knowing about.

Eventually though he found his way to the rather impressive spread of finger foods. A server lingered nearby, and gawked at Drayson's request for a proper plate; he wasn't going to be wandering the room with some expensive little dish better suited for a cup of tea; he hadn't had much to eat all day, and was looking forward to substituting his grocery bill at someone else's expense.

He couldn't help but acknowledge Jaxen's presence when the lad joined him at the buffet table; he had a striking lack of understanding of personal space. But then again, even the most common of pickpocket was like that. It would be equally amusing to see Jaxen's reaction when he learned just who Drayson was.

Of course, he didn't get the chance to introduce himself. Expensive doors gave way and a surprisingly strong gust of wind tore through the room. The troublemaker was gone in a flash; of all things he might have expected of the lad, checking on his date was not one of them. But off he went to scoop the woman up and bustle her away from most of the commotion. Somehow Drayson doubted that she was the type to be easily ruffled by something like this.

In the aftermath of that gust of wind Drayson found himself calming down some of the more obviously shaken guests; these sorts of rich folks hadn't the stomach for sudden shocks. Drayson didn't believe the doors simply gave way of their own accord though; while possible, it seemed entirely unlikely, and such a thing would have made a fine distraction for something.

Hood was aware that Spectra was goading Yuri into reaching above his station. He couldn't exactly see her doing it, all snuggled into his side as she was, but he knew her well enough. She enjoyed being chased, being sought after, and of course if someone were to be ruined along the way, all the better. It certainly made things interesting.

He as all set to just leave the two to their dealings, when the expression on Yuri's face darkened. The guy didn't like to loose, apparently. What made it sadder was that Yuri actually thought he was in the running for Spectra's attention. Hell, he had been expecting more resistance from the golden-eyed fellow, not the wanna-be big-shot.

Hood tensed a scant moment before the wind arrived. The look that crossed Yuri's face, of angry determination, nearly won the man a shot to the throat. Silas' response however caused Hood to pause and tilt his head a bit to look in that direction, to see what had Silas so worked up. When the doors burst open, Hood had barely enough time to tug Spectra past him and away from the sudden commotion. It was more instinct then conscious thought of course, but it served to spare her from the brunt of the gust that threatened to knock him off his feet.

When the dust settled, Hood was still standing, and cast a long, suspicious glare into the night-draped skyline beyond the now open doors. He shot a suspicious glare at those distant doors, and the night shrouded skyline beyond. Strange wind currents were one thing, but that had been a bit much. But, assured that there was no wet-works team behind the sudden commotion, Hood relaxed slightly and spared a glance for Silas.

He'd seen men snap under pressure, but that surely wasn't the case. The man just wasn't right in the head, that was all. More a...wild animal, perhaps, for the way he looked at people, the way he moved.

Before he could decide what to do with Yuri though, Hood was again distracted. This time by the arrival of someone he was not terribly excited to see. Hood sighed quietly and took a moment to take stock of his clothes, then fixed his gaze on Jaxen. It was readily evident he wasn't terribly pleased to see Jaxen. The fellow had caused him nothing but trouble so far.

"Jaxen. No, doubt you did. You're just a common pickpocket."
He didn't like Jaxen. He didn't hate him either, but the fellow seemed to be little more then a waste of space. Either causing trouble or getting into trouble. And the woman on his arm? He was starting to wonder if there was anyone at this blasted party that fit in other then Spectra. Not that Oriena didn't or couldn't, like the men in the hallway; she didn't simply because she did not seem to want to.

He turned back to Spectra finally. She was the only person in the damn party he had come to see, and wasn't about to waste any more of her time with these damn antics. "Lets try this again, shall we? Before anything else untowards happens?"

Without warning, Spectra was whipped from Hood's escorting elbow. She staggered on precarious heels, reeling with widely thrown arms to keep her balance. Gale force winds lashed strands of hair around her throat. The hem of her dress flapped heavy against her thighs, whipping the metallic medallions like coins sinking to the bottom of a fountain, Strong arms clasped on hers, and she found herself pressed grotesquely against Yuri.

Annoyance cut a sharp gaze as soon as it was over. He released her as much as she flicked him away, and she set to rearrange her appearance with expert experience of any model who knew how to take advantage of a sudden gust on a windy beach. The thick mane of dark hair was touseled now, but rather than flattening the curls and dampening her glowing presence, Spectra embraced the wild and exotic dishevelment. Her cheeks flushed, her skin glowed, and her eyes flashed heated as her frustration.

For those few moments while she gathered herself, she all but ignored the men, including Hood. Until his voice broke her trance.

"Jaxen. No, doubt you did. You're just a common pickpocket."


She followed his attentions down the end of the hall, where leaned a slender man in a designer suit she recognized. It debuted on the same night as Spectra sauntered the catwalk last autumn. Hood had called him Jaxen. She didn't recognize the face that went with the name, but she knew he was no model.

The woman in his company next drew her curiosity: a spider noting the presence of some strange new insect she was unsure whether to watch flit about or capture it in her web. Oriena was clearly not in Spectra's league. She was no more threat to her than a maggot to the leopard. Except... Spectra sensed something from the woman. An affinity of sorts, and Spectra guessed the woman had the potential to be an entirely different sort of threat.

Dazed by the consideration, she blinked at Hood's offer. He would likely think her flustered by the surprising turn of events, but Spectra bounced back from worse, and as a career woman, she had immense adaptability.

She slithered her arm in his once more. This time, she did not bait the men any further. "Yes. Let's."

The clicking sounds of high heels approached and Ulrich paused the battleship game that had occupied the duller minutes between visits just in time to straighten his shirt and square his shoulders.

A tapered heel and a long, pale leg reached around the corner, and he smiled warmly. Shin-pei gently laid an elaborate fur coat across the table and scanned the badge that accompanied it into the system.

"Here's another fur. Twelfth of the night. I guess that means you're winning,"
she smiled, playfully bitter to be losing their long-standing bet.

Ulrich waved his hands, "I tell truth, Shin-pei. Fur coats. They come back into style, yes? Yes."
He retrieved a velvet lined hanger, sturdy and thick and tucked it beneath the coat's shoulders.

Shin-pei shook her head. Ulrich's intel on the fashion trends came solely from these parties, or so he liked to claim, but she saw the way he smoothed his sleeves. Even in his most ordinary, he wore clothing like they were tuxedos: assured and confident.

Her earpiece alerted her to the door's opening again.
"You know fashion, Ulrich, but I know fashionably late!"
She tapped her watch. He'd estimated the guests would have all arrived forty-five minutes ago. Shin-pei's bet gave her another five minutes. She turned to go, "Looks like you'll be buying tacos tonight--"
but her chiming laughter was cut short by the sudden appearance of a broad-shouldered man in a long trench coat. Another was draped across his arms.

"--Oh! I am so sorry, sir. Please, allow me to take your coats!"
She began to take the item from him but despite her jolt, he was undisturbed by the tiny woman's presence. The lines around his mouth barely moved as he shook his head. He stepped around her, and placed the coat across the table.

Ulrich had come back from the coat room, frowning at their interaction.

"Shin-pei needs to scan your coat, so we can return it to you at the end of the night."
The stranger hadn't even removed his sunglasses, and as Ulric bent to grab a hanger, he saw the tiny sliver of an earpiece nestled behind the man's ear.

Ulrich slipped the coat carefully from the table. It was a cashmere-soft wool of slate gray. The lapel was lined with a narrow strip of black fur, soft as the velvet night.

"No need for scans." The man said, voice hard as iron. "I will be guarding it."

Shin-pei gawked with confusion, but Ulrich was on the verge of laughter. "Guarding a coat? Sir, I assure you of its safety in present company."


He unfurled the coat and dipped the hanger in the shoulders. That's when Ulrich saw the pin on the front: an orange and black crescent rimmed in gold.

He gaped and quickly hung it up. The agent, meanwhile, took a stance along the wall. Shin-pei lifted her shoulders, questioning the shock that unhinged Ulrich. He mouthed a word in response: "Ascendancy,"
and pointed down the hall.

***

Nikolai swept a gaze across the faces that slowly realized his presence. Some colored with anticipation, others drained with fear. Exactly the reaction he'd hoped for; as even the oligarchy needed to be reminded of their place in the world once in a while.

((An attempt to get this going again. You're welcome. *grin))

Spectra fucking Lin. The actress, model, and porn star worshipped by billions on the arm of Mr. John White. The guy wasn't terrible looking. Jaxen would give him that. But Spectra Lin? Now that had to be a story.

So imagine Jaxen's immense pleasure when probably the most beautiful woman at least on that end of the hall peeled her eyes off White's broad shoulders and chased Jaxen's body from head to toe. Who grinned lavishly. "Miss Lin,"
he offered, mouth twisted with humor. He'd have to be dead to not be interested, and even then Jaxen would wager she could warm the deadest of corpses, but he was more interested in torturing White than winning Spectra's charms for himself.

He pushed off the wall and met her and White half way. His outstretched hand was unlikely to get a shake. White did like his personal space after all. He grasped the larger man's gaze fearlessly, breaking the barrier of personal space to slide in alongside he and his escort. Perhaps White was filthy rich? Rumor had it Spectra Lin could be purchased for the right price. Made more sense, anyway.

He shot yellow-eyes a glance. "Fantastic contacts, my friend."
He pat the guy on the arm, subtly feeling for a watch but came up empty handed. He turned to White, and a coyote-wry grin curled Jaxen's lips with amusement. "Oh I think we'd both agree I'm not 'common'"
He laughed and clapped White on the arm. Hmm, impressive. Guy must bench. And Jaxen gestured at the sliver of pure-ornery lounging nearby. "Let me introduce you to Oriena,"
mostly to wrap up White and Spectra rather than show off the vixen that was his date. And to put both women in the same field of view. Just to see what would happen.

Yuri scowled as Mister Handsome led Spectra Lin off, taking that other dude with the weird hair with him as Yellow Eyes seemed fixated on something entirely different. Well, fuck Spectra. He wasn't in the mood for joining a circle jerk around her at the moment and it seemed she attracted dicks like ants to honey. Maybe he'd get her alone, later.

The power slipped from Yuri's grasp at that moment. Fuck. That urge to feel it again coursing through his veins pulsed through his mind, an itch to fulfill his craving. And his drink was empty. Not a good combination there.

Yuri cursed to himself -- not actually at himself, cause he was totally awesome, of course -- and walked away to find the bartender. It took him a circuitous route through the penthouse suite that netted him another sale. Finally he made it to the bartender, just off from the main entrance.

Yuri put hard cash on the bar. "Your best. Straight up."
Luckily there'd been a change in shift, at least for the bartender who had been there earlier. Else Yuri would have likely ripped the man's throat out for giving the goods away to Yellow Eyes.

Glass filled, Yuri took a sip and was satisfied. This would do. He turned away from the bar and sprinkled some of his magic dust into the glass. That would make everything better. He'd already made his nut among the upper crust who wanted to partake in Yuri's goods and then some, so why not imbibe in a little candy? He sipped again, and could feel the workings of that little pill through his veins.

He turned from the bar and began to walk, intending to make his way to the balcony again. Certainly there'd be some clients out there. Or maybe Spectra had grown bored of Mr. Handsome and was ready to come crawling back to the first object of her attentions.

The way back to the balcony took him through the main entrance way. Yuri plowed through, not really wanting to make any eye contact with the fucking high class drones that waited there.

Then he bumped a shoulder with someone. Apparently it looked like his path clashed with wherever some other guy was going. Yuri pushed back hard, someone with broad shoulders who was expecting his way to be cleared just by his presence -- Fuck that, Yuri didn't diverge his path traveled for no one. The man stumbled.

"Watch where you're going, asshole,"
Yuri said, deciding to spare a glance for the fucker who'd bumped into him.

Well, fuck. He didn't expect to see that.

Alric moved behind the Ascendancy as if he were his shadow. His own suit was similarly immaculate and tailored specifically to measurements meant to accommodate a thin layer of body armor beneath, something the Ascendancy seemed to neglect. Confidence or not, immortality was only proven one way, but it had to be divinity that moved him to dismiss such things. Perhaps, once Alric himself mastered his own powers, he would be persuaded to adopt the same practice.

Alric glanced across a room of faces. It was a strangely foreign thought that must have entered the mind of the most powerful man in history to attend a gathering like this with so little preparation for the CSS to take the proper precautions. They should have at least inserted disguised agents into the crowd. But whatever it was, it was none of Alric's concern. He was here both as Nikolai's guard and student. Not just any ordinary man should be allowed presence at a god's side so easily. Best they surround themselves with like beings.

Alric's attention strayed from the Ascendancy for a moment as another of his team took post between coat-check and the entrance. Something caught his peripheral vision, and Alric moved in time to witness an unknown pierce the safety margin around the Ascendancy. For all that it was worth, it looked no more harmless than what it appeared to be: an accident. But the insult followed, and when he placed his hands on the Amulet of Mankind, Alric's instincts fired into action.

He moved, catching Nikolai's shoulder and steadied his teacher with an iron grip just before he fell. His other lashed out, and the knife edge of his palm crushing into the assailant's throat. It was followed by a low kick to the man's knee, driving him to the ground unless he did managed to get out of the way; either way he would be kneeling or bowing for his transgressions. Finally, Alric drew a FN 5.7 pistol drawn from underneath his jacket, and aimed it coolly at his head. He'd managed to place himself between the Ascendancy and the idiot that attacked him.

“Your face on the ground now!
” His voice rung out loudly over all the other nearby noise, his tone and intonation mirroring that of one of his old drill sergeants. It brought with it not only obvious command but the undisguised promise of violence if compliance was not given immediately.

In the pace of the last few moments, Alric finally noticed his partner had gone to the Ascendancy's side. Good.