03-11-2019, 05:29 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-11-2019, 05:30 PM by Marcus DuBois.)
Two fingers rubbed his chin as he studied her, watching the mask seem to fall into place. Ironic, given her words. Funny how easily they could be donned and doffed at will. His words were slow, as languorous as the smile that formed. "I would have said 'Fire burns away the dross.' But I suspect you said the same, there at the end."
The near touch of her sharpened nails, blades to rip at him, sent a chill up his spine. Strangely, it was not without some appeal. That made him chuckle on the inside. Very unexpected. Knives to poke and to prod. Something from one of the endless preachers he had been forced to listen to as a child- on pain of beatings of course- came to mind, though as it had marinated and aged in his soul, had became darker, deeper. His reality. The truth is sharper than any razor-edged blade, slicing deep between bone and sinew. Splitting it open, to dig at and scrape out the marrow. It was a delicious image.
The moment drew out. Her comment about what was best left him curious. "If I were to guess, I would say it was the latter," he said quietly. Malik saw glimpses of that darkness, pulsing. Energies twinned, he could almost imagine a warping of the air.
Hand removed, the temperature seemed to drop, the outdoor cafe and environs brightening once more. A touch of bite laced her question. He raised an eyebrow. "I did not seek anything from Danika- at the moment. Nothing beyond her company at the Ball last night." Malik could not hide the slight twist of his lip. "I doubt she has any secrets, though. She is utterly an open book." His eyes focused on her. "What I want...it is simple. I want her work. She seems to have discovered the power using scientific equipment."
A slight smile. A gamble, the dice rolling. And Marcus DuBois dropped the mask completely. Darth Malik stood revealed, hiding none of the churning hunger and anger and desire that boiled in his soul. She had not taken to his earlier hints, promises of what she might find at the Consulate.
His voice lowered and he allowed his deepest desires to show for the first time. "I want all of it. The Consulate is a funnel, a vacuum, bringing every last drop of information about the power- and so much more! And it all flows through me. Channelers-" he paused, tilting his head slightly, his word changing to be inclusive "- those like you will be at the forefront of this new world, but I will hold the key." His whispering voice hardened, his brows drawing down as his eyes darkened. "A world of order. Of justice. Of vengeance."
His eyes searched hers.
The near touch of her sharpened nails, blades to rip at him, sent a chill up his spine. Strangely, it was not without some appeal. That made him chuckle on the inside. Very unexpected. Knives to poke and to prod. Something from one of the endless preachers he had been forced to listen to as a child- on pain of beatings of course- came to mind, though as it had marinated and aged in his soul, had became darker, deeper. His reality. The truth is sharper than any razor-edged blade, slicing deep between bone and sinew. Splitting it open, to dig at and scrape out the marrow. It was a delicious image.
The moment drew out. Her comment about what was best left him curious. "If I were to guess, I would say it was the latter," he said quietly. Malik saw glimpses of that darkness, pulsing. Energies twinned, he could almost imagine a warping of the air.
Hand removed, the temperature seemed to drop, the outdoor cafe and environs brightening once more. A touch of bite laced her question. He raised an eyebrow. "I did not seek anything from Danika- at the moment. Nothing beyond her company at the Ball last night." Malik could not hide the slight twist of his lip. "I doubt she has any secrets, though. She is utterly an open book." His eyes focused on her. "What I want...it is simple. I want her work. She seems to have discovered the power using scientific equipment."
A slight smile. A gamble, the dice rolling. And Marcus DuBois dropped the mask completely. Darth Malik stood revealed, hiding none of the churning hunger and anger and desire that boiled in his soul. She had not taken to his earlier hints, promises of what she might find at the Consulate.
His voice lowered and he allowed his deepest desires to show for the first time. "I want all of it. The Consulate is a funnel, a vacuum, bringing every last drop of information about the power- and so much more! And it all flows through me. Channelers-" he paused, tilting his head slightly, his word changing to be inclusive "- those like you will be at the forefront of this new world, but I will hold the key." His whispering voice hardened, his brows drawing down as his eyes darkened. "A world of order. Of justice. Of vengeance."
His eyes searched hers.