06-25-2018, 11:20 AM
Jay laughed. Surprisingly, the sound was sincere. Nox was so uncomfortable, Jay felt downright sophisticated in comparison. He was suddenly grateful for the uniform. While it was unlike anything he'd worn before, it was preferred over the tuxedo. Luckily, Nox knew where they kept the real alcohol, and Jay gladly followed him to it.
The names were familiar. Dorian, Cruz. The rich guys that were housing Nox. Funny that the urge to drink was stronger every time Nox was around. Coincidence or otherwise. Probably coincidence.
He felt the power depart his companion and the sudden loss of presence was tempting to reclaim it himself. At his side, his own fingers waggled like he was toying with something holstered and at the ready, but finding only an empty belt, the distraction of a bar quieted the fidgeting.
"I'd like to see them charge $9 a drink at an affair that cost ten million a ticket."
He clapped Nox on the shoulder and urged him onward.
As they strolled, almost every pair of eyes seemed to seek his own. The attention was unsettling. Especially when so many of those eyes scanned him up and down. He only grinned in return. There were a few pairs of eyes he wouldn't mind pausing and letting them roam. But the pull of harder alcohol was stronger, as was the familiarity of a friend.
"Don't worry about it, Nox. I'm not exactly in my element either. Though I had a hell of a time at senior prom, and this is basically the same thing, right?"
He grinned and swiped two glasses, offering one each to Nox and Samuel, who had been trailing behind.
Sam shook his head with a frown. Jay shrugged and kept the glass for himself. "I've never been much for vodka, but it sure as shit beats champagne. Not that there's anything wrong with that."
He tilted the crystal to his lips and surprisingly found the liquid smooth as butter. It was fucking delicious. Not to mention that he was instantly relaxed. Kind of. Well, close to anyway. One more should do the trick.
Without another word, he tossed back a second, this time letting the warmth sit on the back of the throat. His mind quieted and the sudden silence in his head was roaring. Like there had been white noise the whole time buzzing in the back of his mind: the lull of that power inside tantalizingly close, and its absence was almost more disorienting than having grown used to it.
He grinned and turned in a circle for Nox to admire. "Jealous, yes? You could be in one of these if you weren't so damned altruistic."
He wouldn't say the word that held Nox's allegiance. Not in this room, anyway.
"But I admit, you look better than last I saw you. Vanders - the guy that healed you up - has a talent, I think. From what I am figuring out, it seems like not many channelers have that skill. He patched up my leg when that kid nearly amputated me in Sierra Leone."
He shrugged off any request for details. It was a long story, anyway. Hopefully that kid made it out of the city alive. He deserved better than growing up in the center of a war zone. A life like that could twist even the best of kids into hell.
The names were familiar. Dorian, Cruz. The rich guys that were housing Nox. Funny that the urge to drink was stronger every time Nox was around. Coincidence or otherwise. Probably coincidence.
He felt the power depart his companion and the sudden loss of presence was tempting to reclaim it himself. At his side, his own fingers waggled like he was toying with something holstered and at the ready, but finding only an empty belt, the distraction of a bar quieted the fidgeting.
"I'd like to see them charge $9 a drink at an affair that cost ten million a ticket."
He clapped Nox on the shoulder and urged him onward.
As they strolled, almost every pair of eyes seemed to seek his own. The attention was unsettling. Especially when so many of those eyes scanned him up and down. He only grinned in return. There were a few pairs of eyes he wouldn't mind pausing and letting them roam. But the pull of harder alcohol was stronger, as was the familiarity of a friend.
"Don't worry about it, Nox. I'm not exactly in my element either. Though I had a hell of a time at senior prom, and this is basically the same thing, right?"
He grinned and swiped two glasses, offering one each to Nox and Samuel, who had been trailing behind.
Sam shook his head with a frown. Jay shrugged and kept the glass for himself. "I've never been much for vodka, but it sure as shit beats champagne. Not that there's anything wrong with that."
He tilted the crystal to his lips and surprisingly found the liquid smooth as butter. It was fucking delicious. Not to mention that he was instantly relaxed. Kind of. Well, close to anyway. One more should do the trick.
Without another word, he tossed back a second, this time letting the warmth sit on the back of the throat. His mind quieted and the sudden silence in his head was roaring. Like there had been white noise the whole time buzzing in the back of his mind: the lull of that power inside tantalizingly close, and its absence was almost more disorienting than having grown used to it.
He grinned and turned in a circle for Nox to admire. "Jealous, yes? You could be in one of these if you weren't so damned altruistic."
He wouldn't say the word that held Nox's allegiance. Not in this room, anyway.
"But I admit, you look better than last I saw you. Vanders - the guy that healed you up - has a talent, I think. From what I am figuring out, it seems like not many channelers have that skill. He patched up my leg when that kid nearly amputated me in Sierra Leone."
He shrugged off any request for details. It was a long story, anyway. Hopefully that kid made it out of the city alive. He deserved better than growing up in the center of a war zone. A life like that could twist even the best of kids into hell.
Only darkness shows you the light.