12-03-2013, 07:39 PM
Easy steps carried Nikolai through the room. A man named Takashita Onada had joined him some minutes after his arrival. He was the cardinal heir to a shipping dynasty that transported goods along DV's Red Sea. Though most greeted the young man by the more informal 'Taka,' Nikolai recognized his family's severe adherence to Japanese tradition, and honored him with a prayerful bow. It was Takashita, after all, who pushed the empire to expand westward to Port Sudan, Asseb, and as far south as Djbouti on the Arabian Sea. It was a dangerous trade, but the extension of Japanese superpowers beyond the traditional waters of the Far East won prosperity in lesser developed parts of the world. Theirs', and others' like them, were ventures Nikolai wholeheartedly approved. He had a vision, after all, and his Custody had only begun to gather the continents to one banner.
Of course, nobody anticipated the Ascendancy's arrival at such an event as this. The only red carpet unfurled before him this night was the one that led to his helicopter hidden away on Kremlin grounds. No caravan of mighty automobiles warned the people of Moscow City of his arrival, and here, among skyscrapers numerous as blades of grass, helicopter lights frequently dotted the night sky. Nobody knew his destination, none but the Security Service, and one other: the man privileged by the Ascendancy's favor to have won a place on The Sphere. It was he whose deference quietly arranged for a number of important faces to attend the evening's elegance, though at the time he was ignorant the reason why. Takashita's, for instance, who was in the process of inviting the Ascendancy to do their family the immense honor of visiting the industry's port base in the DV city of Jeddah, a mere eighty kilometers from Mecca. Surely the time could be arranged, as he would already be in the area. Takashita practically begged while leading him through the room. To which Nikolai was on the cusp of grasping the man's hand with more western-style acknowledgement, but he was suddenly wrenched away by a blow to the shoulder, caught hard by the bony arm of another man's. Footwork kept him upright, but a hard shove to the chest sent him staggering. If it hadn't been for Alric's quick thinking, Nik was sure to have taken a hard fall. True to CSS assignment, Alric spun on the assailant, while his partner practically pasted himself as a second shield to his Ascendancy.
Alric's command served to contain the young man, but also sent the room to eerie silence as onlookers realized what was happening. Adrenaline that spiked every hair on his body to attention soon dissipated, and with it, the sudden appearance of his more choleric side - a disposition few witnessed. His frown quickly smoothed diagnostic, even in face of the young man's crude comments.
There were other peculiarities about him besides treasonable insurgency: ill-refinement for one and his appearance for another. The shrill cut of his voice demanded remuneration, which Nikolai verged on allowing. And none here would deny the Ascendancy the right to blight the impotent fool with destruction.
But such a reaction was overextending the bounds of civilized behavior, and more importantly, ever the masterful politician, his impotence was exactly what piqued Nikolai's interest. How exactly did an outsider come to pierce the aristocrat's exclusive veil to wander an extravaganza such as this? His was such an ambiguity Nikolai never failed to exploit.
The severity of his gaze had long faded into one of considerable patience, but before Alric continued to demonstrate his literal adherence to protocol, Nikolai raised his hands. With one he ordered the second agent from his path and with the other he commanded Alric to stand down.
And in the clearing around the obviously injured guest, Nikolai knelt and offered to help him to his feet. "It seems I am out of practice when it comes to maneuvering crowds,"
the excuse he offered as convoluted, but fair, apology. "But you will have to excuse our brothers in Security Service. They take these things quite seriously."
Upon easing the man to his feet, Nikolai looked him over. Already, the attention being given him earned the formerly passed-over outsider a curious survey by women and men whom might otherwise never dream to welcome him. Attention from the Ascendancy, no matter how brief, was as rewarding as the golden touch of King Midas. And this young man was going to walk away from the night not only having shaken the Ascendancy's hand, but also the bearer of an apology.
"Allow me to make it up to you. Or at least to your throat and knee. Will you be alright?"
As he spoke, butler service brought them warm towels and their choice of beverages. Nikolai plucked a gorgeous globe of Baccarat crystal stemware, and offered it to a man who somehow escaped hell on earth. So far.
"Warm towel?"
He offered with a deeply trustworthy gesture.
Of course, nobody anticipated the Ascendancy's arrival at such an event as this. The only red carpet unfurled before him this night was the one that led to his helicopter hidden away on Kremlin grounds. No caravan of mighty automobiles warned the people of Moscow City of his arrival, and here, among skyscrapers numerous as blades of grass, helicopter lights frequently dotted the night sky. Nobody knew his destination, none but the Security Service, and one other: the man privileged by the Ascendancy's favor to have won a place on The Sphere. It was he whose deference quietly arranged for a number of important faces to attend the evening's elegance, though at the time he was ignorant the reason why. Takashita's, for instance, who was in the process of inviting the Ascendancy to do their family the immense honor of visiting the industry's port base in the DV city of Jeddah, a mere eighty kilometers from Mecca. Surely the time could be arranged, as he would already be in the area. Takashita practically begged while leading him through the room. To which Nikolai was on the cusp of grasping the man's hand with more western-style acknowledgement, but he was suddenly wrenched away by a blow to the shoulder, caught hard by the bony arm of another man's. Footwork kept him upright, but a hard shove to the chest sent him staggering. If it hadn't been for Alric's quick thinking, Nik was sure to have taken a hard fall. True to CSS assignment, Alric spun on the assailant, while his partner practically pasted himself as a second shield to his Ascendancy.
Alric's command served to contain the young man, but also sent the room to eerie silence as onlookers realized what was happening. Adrenaline that spiked every hair on his body to attention soon dissipated, and with it, the sudden appearance of his more choleric side - a disposition few witnessed. His frown quickly smoothed diagnostic, even in face of the young man's crude comments.
There were other peculiarities about him besides treasonable insurgency: ill-refinement for one and his appearance for another. The shrill cut of his voice demanded remuneration, which Nikolai verged on allowing. And none here would deny the Ascendancy the right to blight the impotent fool with destruction.
But such a reaction was overextending the bounds of civilized behavior, and more importantly, ever the masterful politician, his impotence was exactly what piqued Nikolai's interest. How exactly did an outsider come to pierce the aristocrat's exclusive veil to wander an extravaganza such as this? His was such an ambiguity Nikolai never failed to exploit.
The severity of his gaze had long faded into one of considerable patience, but before Alric continued to demonstrate his literal adherence to protocol, Nikolai raised his hands. With one he ordered the second agent from his path and with the other he commanded Alric to stand down.
And in the clearing around the obviously injured guest, Nikolai knelt and offered to help him to his feet. "It seems I am out of practice when it comes to maneuvering crowds,"
the excuse he offered as convoluted, but fair, apology. "But you will have to excuse our brothers in Security Service. They take these things quite seriously."
Upon easing the man to his feet, Nikolai looked him over. Already, the attention being given him earned the formerly passed-over outsider a curious survey by women and men whom might otherwise never dream to welcome him. Attention from the Ascendancy, no matter how brief, was as rewarding as the golden touch of King Midas. And this young man was going to walk away from the night not only having shaken the Ascendancy's hand, but also the bearer of an apology.
"Allow me to make it up to you. Or at least to your throat and knee. Will you be alright?"
As he spoke, butler service brought them warm towels and their choice of beverages. Nikolai plucked a gorgeous globe of Baccarat crystal stemware, and offered it to a man who somehow escaped hell on earth. So far.
"Warm towel?"
He offered with a deeply trustworthy gesture.