12-09-2023, 03:20 AM
The look on his face was plain; Maksim recognized him.
In turn, Jensen became a bundle of nerves. It closed up around his heart like a cage, squeezing out the ability to breathe from the inside. He couldn’t quite run; couldn’t quite speak, and in the moment Ezvin appeared, he knew he would attempt neither.
Like everyone else, he flinched when the lights popped. Sparks made for an orange shower overhead, and on instinct he covered himself, but they floated past him without injury. He was breathing rapidly, turning this way and that only to see the exact same scene played out across the entire party. In the brief, disorienting blackout that followed, Jensen felt a hand on his back, presumably Ezvin’s, trying to offer comfort, protection, or guidance. But fear had gripped him, a fear that was abruptly replaced by a different sensation. Suddenly, something else occupied his mind entirely.
He followed the feeling, weaving through a few people like an arrow on target. He came upon Maksim, feeling his pain through the dark. The Gift within him stirred, a powerful, glorious presence that flowed from Jensen into Maksim. He felt the burns heal, an experience both foreign and intimately familiar, as if he were soothing a part of himself. It was an indescribable feeling; the connection between them was almost spiritual.
But his attention was soon diverted. A series of curses crying of pain nearby cut through the confusion. Jensen turned towards the sound, the Gift’s senses leading him onward. He found a woman injured by the electrical sparks.
Without hesitating, Jensen reached out to hold her hand while the Gift coursed through him. The room was still shrouded in darkness, lit only by the glow of Wallet screens, some angled his direction in an attempt to capture what was happening. As the stood and hugged him, a ripple of shock and awe passed through the onlookers. Murmurs of "What just happened?" and "Did you see that?" surrounded them. A small bubble of Wallet screens formed around him.
Jensen knew the attention he had garnered. The Custody was going to be furious with him, but surely Ascendancy wouldn't want him to walk away. If only he could undo the videos, stop them before they were spread across the whole of the internet, but he knew such a thing was hopeless. A moment of panic threatened his resolve. The room felt too small, too confining. He should leave, escape the inevitable barrage of questions and demands sure to follow. An apology froze on his lips, but it went unspoken. He sighed, pushed to his feet and sought out the next person who needed his help. The circle parted almost reverently as he walked. Someone found him this time, a man whose face was rippled with burns. The Gift left its blessing upon him and Jensen pat him on the shoulder in exchange for the gratitude welling up in his eyes, but before he could continue onward, someone grasped his arm, their grip firm but not unkind. "Please, you have to help," a voice pleaded, almost breathless with worry. It was one of the event staff, her face drawn with concern.
Jensen was being pulled towards the DJ booth, the center of the electrical chaos. The pyrotechnics that had misfired were scattered around like debris. On the floor lay the DJ, clearly in pain, his injuries more severe than all the others. The DJ was surrounded by a small group of people, their faces etched with worry and fear. As Jensen knelt beside him, the DJ's labored breathing and the burn marks on his skin were evident. The severity of the situation hit Jensen – this was more than just a minor injury. Around them, the crowd had formed a semi-circle, their Wallet screens creating a patchwork of shadows and illumination.
The DJ's pained gasps and the anxious faces of the onlookers were the last things he noted as he grasped hurt hands again, but this time, they gripped his tight in return. The familiar sensation of the Gift's healing power flowed through him, more intense this time due to the gravity of the injuries. The DJ's skin began to mend, the burn marks fading as if being erased by an invisible eraser. The DJ's breathing eased, his expression relaxing into one of relief, and he sat up. Around them, the crowd murmured in astonishment, their cameras capturing every moment of the miraculous healing yet again.
As Jensen opened his eyes, he was met with a sea of awe-struck faces. The reality set in; while he was at peace with doing the right thing no matter the implications for himself, a strong sense of vulnerability washed over him.
Climbing to his feet, Jensen continued anyway until everyone who was even mildly injured was restored.
((By the end of this post, I assume most people left the party with Adrian's security, and there are maybe 20-30 people still walking around in the dark room following Jensen around))
In turn, Jensen became a bundle of nerves. It closed up around his heart like a cage, squeezing out the ability to breathe from the inside. He couldn’t quite run; couldn’t quite speak, and in the moment Ezvin appeared, he knew he would attempt neither.
Like everyone else, he flinched when the lights popped. Sparks made for an orange shower overhead, and on instinct he covered himself, but they floated past him without injury. He was breathing rapidly, turning this way and that only to see the exact same scene played out across the entire party. In the brief, disorienting blackout that followed, Jensen felt a hand on his back, presumably Ezvin’s, trying to offer comfort, protection, or guidance. But fear had gripped him, a fear that was abruptly replaced by a different sensation. Suddenly, something else occupied his mind entirely.
He followed the feeling, weaving through a few people like an arrow on target. He came upon Maksim, feeling his pain through the dark. The Gift within him stirred, a powerful, glorious presence that flowed from Jensen into Maksim. He felt the burns heal, an experience both foreign and intimately familiar, as if he were soothing a part of himself. It was an indescribable feeling; the connection between them was almost spiritual.
But his attention was soon diverted. A series of curses crying of pain nearby cut through the confusion. Jensen turned towards the sound, the Gift’s senses leading him onward. He found a woman injured by the electrical sparks.
Without hesitating, Jensen reached out to hold her hand while the Gift coursed through him. The room was still shrouded in darkness, lit only by the glow of Wallet screens, some angled his direction in an attempt to capture what was happening. As the stood and hugged him, a ripple of shock and awe passed through the onlookers. Murmurs of "What just happened?" and "Did you see that?" surrounded them. A small bubble of Wallet screens formed around him.
Jensen knew the attention he had garnered. The Custody was going to be furious with him, but surely Ascendancy wouldn't want him to walk away. If only he could undo the videos, stop them before they were spread across the whole of the internet, but he knew such a thing was hopeless. A moment of panic threatened his resolve. The room felt too small, too confining. He should leave, escape the inevitable barrage of questions and demands sure to follow. An apology froze on his lips, but it went unspoken. He sighed, pushed to his feet and sought out the next person who needed his help. The circle parted almost reverently as he walked. Someone found him this time, a man whose face was rippled with burns. The Gift left its blessing upon him and Jensen pat him on the shoulder in exchange for the gratitude welling up in his eyes, but before he could continue onward, someone grasped his arm, their grip firm but not unkind. "Please, you have to help," a voice pleaded, almost breathless with worry. It was one of the event staff, her face drawn with concern.
Jensen was being pulled towards the DJ booth, the center of the electrical chaos. The pyrotechnics that had misfired were scattered around like debris. On the floor lay the DJ, clearly in pain, his injuries more severe than all the others. The DJ was surrounded by a small group of people, their faces etched with worry and fear. As Jensen knelt beside him, the DJ's labored breathing and the burn marks on his skin were evident. The severity of the situation hit Jensen – this was more than just a minor injury. Around them, the crowd had formed a semi-circle, their Wallet screens creating a patchwork of shadows and illumination.
The DJ's pained gasps and the anxious faces of the onlookers were the last things he noted as he grasped hurt hands again, but this time, they gripped his tight in return. The familiar sensation of the Gift's healing power flowed through him, more intense this time due to the gravity of the injuries. The DJ's skin began to mend, the burn marks fading as if being erased by an invisible eraser. The DJ's breathing eased, his expression relaxing into one of relief, and he sat up. Around them, the crowd murmured in astonishment, their cameras capturing every moment of the miraculous healing yet again.
As Jensen opened his eyes, he was met with a sea of awe-struck faces. The reality set in; while he was at peace with doing the right thing no matter the implications for himself, a strong sense of vulnerability washed over him.
Climbing to his feet, Jensen continued anyway until everyone who was even mildly injured was restored.
((By the end of this post, I assume most people left the party with Adrian's security, and there are maybe 20-30 people still walking around in the dark room following Jensen around))