12-06-2016, 11:06 PM
The past few days blurred for Nikolai. It was surreal. Since he was hailed as this savior of the city in self-sacrifice, everyone saw him differently. People, staffers and aids, general people he usually laughed with or shared a quick conversation tred gently around him all of a sudden. Half were worried that his healing was false and he was still near death for all his vitality. The rest were clearly in awe of him, as though he was some holy artifact they dare not disturb. The culture in the Kremlin was always formal, that was certain. It was a culture Nikolai embraced, on a professional and personal level, but it was a culture that went beyond dress codes. With the revelation of a god in their midst, reverence followed him where he went. At one point, a staffer took his hand and kissed it, thanking him for saving the city. His grandchildren had been in St. Basil's that day, touring the basilica when the bomb may have detonated, and they were alive because of him. Nikolai only smiled and said he was glad the children were safe also, and that he would always do what was right by Moscow. But he could tell similar sentiments were everywhere.
Now, he was preparing to greet an American delegation. This was the first that the Americans had sent in years. Relations with the USA were poor to start with, and part of his intent when he visited last year was to show the everyday people who he really was, and tell them himself what he could do for them. With what happened in Dayton, and how close he came to discovery, suffice to say, he had zero plans to return any time soon. That wasn't to say he wouldn't welcome a delegation brought before him.
He was reading over the docket outside of the throne room when he was told they were waiting. All the official ceremony of the coming together of countries was also waiting in one of the grand halls of the Kremlin, a room set up with a media platform and a staging area for the initial talks. However, the conversation soon to be had would primarily take place behind closed doors, where individuals could speak frankly. But all that, even the staged reception, was only for show. It was for the world to see amiable negotiations between two world powers, assuming the USA could still be called that.
The real greeting was going to take place in the throne room. Nikolai was done playing games. He was ready to rule the CCD as himself, and this meeting was the first opportunity to truly show another country exactly what he was. That the title he selected for himself all those years ago meant so much more than anyone ever dreamed.
As he read over the list of names and notable points about the individuals he was meeting today, including the Secretary of State, one name stood out. He paused for a moment before remembering where he heard the name before. It was when Viktor spoke of a speech given by a young Senator where she described the use of their power as channeling.
He stared at the name and photo that went alongside. So there were women that could use the same power he did. He assumed there had to be, but he had never seen it in person. A few swipes summoned the very speech in question and he watched casually as she summoned proof of her power. He hid a small smile for her demonstration. So the USA was sending a channeler to meet a channeler.
Well, maybe this meeting wasn't going to be boring after all.
He left the docket behind, tugged the sleeves of his immaculate suit smooth, and ascended the steps that led to the throne of the Russian tsars where he stood before it, hands clasped patiently, and peered down the long hall. Light flooded the space, glinting on the ornate gold and marble. It flared briefly when he summoned the power into his grasp, darkening his aura, and intensifying his gaze. At the far end of the hall, two ropes of power, Aether, pulled the massive doors open before him.
Behind him the double-crescent of the Ascendancy was suspended over the throne. The flags of the Custody, of DI, and of the Ascendancy decorated the hall. But it was the man himself that all this revolved around that commanded attention. "Welcome to Moscow,"
he spoke on more threads spun with Aether and Essence, carrying his voice unnaturally to their ears as they entered.
Now, he was preparing to greet an American delegation. This was the first that the Americans had sent in years. Relations with the USA were poor to start with, and part of his intent when he visited last year was to show the everyday people who he really was, and tell them himself what he could do for them. With what happened in Dayton, and how close he came to discovery, suffice to say, he had zero plans to return any time soon. That wasn't to say he wouldn't welcome a delegation brought before him.
He was reading over the docket outside of the throne room when he was told they were waiting. All the official ceremony of the coming together of countries was also waiting in one of the grand halls of the Kremlin, a room set up with a media platform and a staging area for the initial talks. However, the conversation soon to be had would primarily take place behind closed doors, where individuals could speak frankly. But all that, even the staged reception, was only for show. It was for the world to see amiable negotiations between two world powers, assuming the USA could still be called that.
The real greeting was going to take place in the throne room. Nikolai was done playing games. He was ready to rule the CCD as himself, and this meeting was the first opportunity to truly show another country exactly what he was. That the title he selected for himself all those years ago meant so much more than anyone ever dreamed.
As he read over the list of names and notable points about the individuals he was meeting today, including the Secretary of State, one name stood out. He paused for a moment before remembering where he heard the name before. It was when Viktor spoke of a speech given by a young Senator where she described the use of their power as channeling.
He stared at the name and photo that went alongside. So there were women that could use the same power he did. He assumed there had to be, but he had never seen it in person. A few swipes summoned the very speech in question and he watched casually as she summoned proof of her power. He hid a small smile for her demonstration. So the USA was sending a channeler to meet a channeler.
Well, maybe this meeting wasn't going to be boring after all.
He left the docket behind, tugged the sleeves of his immaculate suit smooth, and ascended the steps that led to the throne of the Russian tsars where he stood before it, hands clasped patiently, and peered down the long hall. Light flooded the space, glinting on the ornate gold and marble. It flared briefly when he summoned the power into his grasp, darkening his aura, and intensifying his gaze. At the far end of the hall, two ropes of power, Aether, pulled the massive doors open before him.
Behind him the double-crescent of the Ascendancy was suspended over the throne. The flags of the Custody, of DI, and of the Ascendancy decorated the hall. But it was the man himself that all this revolved around that commanded attention. "Welcome to Moscow,"
he spoke on more threads spun with Aether and Essence, carrying his voice unnaturally to their ears as they entered.