10-07-2016, 01:54 PM
The Ascendancy himself could have spoken those words to her, and perhaps he would barely get away with it. Anyone who had tried to speak to her in that tone had been ground down by ice words, and eyes of pure steel. She turned to face whoever this was, likely some errand boy ordered to fetch her. Someone very clearly not aware of who she was. When Victoria fully faced the man in his long, black coat, her hackles raised immediately. It was not just that arrogant, cold look on his face that matched those almost dismissive words, but there was something... else about him. The orange trim on the black coat marked him as something, at least. Still not a uniform, which only raised her irritation. Who did he think he was?
Then Victoria's eyes locked onto his.
She wasn't sure what happened next. To her, time seemed to skip a few moments, and when she came to, her face was set in a rictus of fury, the sound of her hissed snarl just leaving the air, whatever it had been. More worryingly, her hand was touching the hilt of her gun, and she had embraced her talent to the point where the sweetness was sickly. Something told her that as dangerous, the warning a mere scratching in the void that she set herself in.
Still, she released it, hand darting back to her side. Victoria knew that the two men behind the man were staring at her in shock. It was an effort to stop herself from sweating; even if she wasn't aware of what she had done, it was obviously... bad. If Victoria knew she had let out a stream of snarled curses, decrying the man in front of her for a hateful, war seeking, tyrant, a terrible father, that would have driven any of her confidence in her power away. Especially when it had been in a language that had not been heard for thousands of years.
Then Victoria's eyes locked onto his.
She wasn't sure what happened next. To her, time seemed to skip a few moments, and when she came to, her face was set in a rictus of fury, the sound of her hissed snarl just leaving the air, whatever it had been. More worryingly, her hand was touching the hilt of her gun, and she had embraced her talent to the point where the sweetness was sickly. Something told her that as dangerous, the warning a mere scratching in the void that she set herself in.
Still, she released it, hand darting back to her side. Victoria knew that the two men behind the man were staring at her in shock. It was an effort to stop herself from sweating; even if she wasn't aware of what she had done, it was obviously... bad. If Victoria knew she had let out a stream of snarled curses, decrying the man in front of her for a hateful, war seeking, tyrant, a terrible father, that would have driven any of her confidence in her power away. Especially when it had been in a language that had not been heard for thousands of years.