12-01-2022, 04:14 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-01-2022, 04:14 AM by Marcus DuBois.)
The days after their trip into the tunnels blew by. Every waking hour was filled with Neverending meetings, papers to read, reports to go over, decisions to make, and more. It would be two o'clock before he had a moment to eat. A hurried meal later, and he would be back at it.
Seven or eight o'clock rolled around before he would leave the Consulate. It was less frequent, but he did try to hit the gym a couple times a week. At least his new position came with perks. Having a meal prepared and ready for him made it easier, in some ways. He'd get home, eat, do more work, and then be in bed by 11.
Sleep was hard to come by. His mind was filled and raced. Once or twice, he'd had a few drinks to help- and they did, to an extent. He fell into a deep sleep. But in the morning he paid for it.
I few words to a doctor on his staff and he had a prescription for a mild sedative, which seemed to help- enough anyway. Well, that and putting on music or a TV show he'd seen enough times that he didn't need to pay attention. A stationary bike for his mind. Between the two, sleep was better.
He did notice that he looked thinner than usual. His jawline and cheekbones was sharper than normal. Somehow, days had turned into weeks. All blurring together so that time seemed to have no meeting.
It was only a chance meeting that brought Ryker to his mind again. A strategy meeting with the head of Domovoi concerning the threat of rogue force users in civilian neighborhoods. That in and of itself, was a normal and necessary concern, deescalation and elimination of dangers.
But the footage the chief had brought in to quarterback with him and his staff had been of Ryker and that woman. He recognized her from the party so long ago. And from the Almaz before that. Dark smokey eyes that promised- promised!- danger. He felt that pull, once again, from the glimpses from the various cameras and lenses that caught the fight that night.
He could track her down. It would be easy enough for someone in his position. But he rather preferred to catch glimpses of her. If it was important to his path, then and only then, would he meet her again.
The memory of those hate and fire filled eyes tucked neatly away, he found it was another face that pulled at him- for a different reason, this time.
Ryker. The man was in a place few wanted to speak about. Ascendancy had wanted him brought to heel, fully pliant and obedient. Marcus wasn't sure this was the way to go about it. Horrific conditions had a way of breaking people or filling them with such despair, resentment or hate they could never be trusted- either to get the job done or to keep controlled.
If the stay was to have an effect, it would have happened by now. That is, any further incarceration their would be pointless.
Marcus decided another angle would be used. What that was, he wasn't sure. He'd have to visit and assess the man first.
Strangely, despite his destination, he felt excitement as he drove away from the buildings and offices that had become his universe for the last few months. The change in scenery alone was worth it. He resolved that regardless of his work load, he'd have to take time off periodically, to reset- to read what he wanted, the indulge in what he desired, and to enjoy the fruits of his labor.
What was the point of seeking power if you didn't get to enjoy it?
The driver stopped and he snapped out of his reverie, pulling focus around him like a cloak. The guard let them through and soon the vehicle was stopped. The door opened and he stepped out.
The air smelled of darkness, though how that actually worked, he didn't know. Their was a weight to the atmosphere. Strong dark emotion tangled up the Force, it seemed. He hadn't felt it before. Perhaps the baseline his routine had set made the change more noticeable.
There was definitely a swirling of something sinister here. Or perhaps it was his imagination. Seizing the Force, he sent out tendrils of spirit, tasting the environs. The sensation was...ephemeral.
He did not let the Force go as he was led into the prison again, clenched his jaw to ignore the enhanced smells he could now taste, the squeals of rusted metal hinges that whined in his ear and clear grime and rot that seemed to be everywhere.
This place needed a fire to cleanse it. He felt a small burning in his stomach, that dark hunger stirring at the thought of purging flames and destruction. It had lain dormant for a while, too.
Yes, he'd take time off and let himself satiate that hunger. He could be Malik for a little while.
Later, though. For now, he needed to be Marcus- distant, but not cold. Ryker would be brought to him. And then he would decide how to proceed.
Seven or eight o'clock rolled around before he would leave the Consulate. It was less frequent, but he did try to hit the gym a couple times a week. At least his new position came with perks. Having a meal prepared and ready for him made it easier, in some ways. He'd get home, eat, do more work, and then be in bed by 11.
Sleep was hard to come by. His mind was filled and raced. Once or twice, he'd had a few drinks to help- and they did, to an extent. He fell into a deep sleep. But in the morning he paid for it.
I few words to a doctor on his staff and he had a prescription for a mild sedative, which seemed to help- enough anyway. Well, that and putting on music or a TV show he'd seen enough times that he didn't need to pay attention. A stationary bike for his mind. Between the two, sleep was better.
He did notice that he looked thinner than usual. His jawline and cheekbones was sharper than normal. Somehow, days had turned into weeks. All blurring together so that time seemed to have no meeting.
It was only a chance meeting that brought Ryker to his mind again. A strategy meeting with the head of Domovoi concerning the threat of rogue force users in civilian neighborhoods. That in and of itself, was a normal and necessary concern, deescalation and elimination of dangers.
But the footage the chief had brought in to quarterback with him and his staff had been of Ryker and that woman. He recognized her from the party so long ago. And from the Almaz before that. Dark smokey eyes that promised- promised!- danger. He felt that pull, once again, from the glimpses from the various cameras and lenses that caught the fight that night.
He could track her down. It would be easy enough for someone in his position. But he rather preferred to catch glimpses of her. If it was important to his path, then and only then, would he meet her again.
The memory of those hate and fire filled eyes tucked neatly away, he found it was another face that pulled at him- for a different reason, this time.
Ryker. The man was in a place few wanted to speak about. Ascendancy had wanted him brought to heel, fully pliant and obedient. Marcus wasn't sure this was the way to go about it. Horrific conditions had a way of breaking people or filling them with such despair, resentment or hate they could never be trusted- either to get the job done or to keep controlled.
If the stay was to have an effect, it would have happened by now. That is, any further incarceration their would be pointless.
Marcus decided another angle would be used. What that was, he wasn't sure. He'd have to visit and assess the man first.
Strangely, despite his destination, he felt excitement as he drove away from the buildings and offices that had become his universe for the last few months. The change in scenery alone was worth it. He resolved that regardless of his work load, he'd have to take time off periodically, to reset- to read what he wanted, the indulge in what he desired, and to enjoy the fruits of his labor.
What was the point of seeking power if you didn't get to enjoy it?
The driver stopped and he snapped out of his reverie, pulling focus around him like a cloak. The guard let them through and soon the vehicle was stopped. The door opened and he stepped out.
The air smelled of darkness, though how that actually worked, he didn't know. Their was a weight to the atmosphere. Strong dark emotion tangled up the Force, it seemed. He hadn't felt it before. Perhaps the baseline his routine had set made the change more noticeable.
There was definitely a swirling of something sinister here. Or perhaps it was his imagination. Seizing the Force, he sent out tendrils of spirit, tasting the environs. The sensation was...ephemeral.
He did not let the Force go as he was led into the prison again, clenched his jaw to ignore the enhanced smells he could now taste, the squeals of rusted metal hinges that whined in his ear and clear grime and rot that seemed to be everywhere.
This place needed a fire to cleanse it. He felt a small burning in his stomach, that dark hunger stirring at the thought of purging flames and destruction. It had lain dormant for a while, too.
Yes, he'd take time off and let himself satiate that hunger. He could be Malik for a little while.
Later, though. For now, he needed to be Marcus- distant, but not cold. Ryker would be brought to him. And then he would decide how to proceed.