10-07-2013, 04:34 AM
That prickling sensation of goosebumps swept across Jon's skin again as Jaxen threw the die. Oriena watched it closely as it bounced -- odd, she hadn't much seemed to care for how any roll had gone before. When it had been her turn to roll earlier in the evening, she'd practically just flipped it on the table without a second glance.
And then Jon felt a surge in the power of the Great Spirit from Jaxen. First the goosebumps, then -- separately -- Jaxen doing something with the power. Translucent threads sprung up around him, but they weren't doing anything that Jon could tell. The weaves -- separate elements, with different hues of color -- looked the same when coming from Jaxen as when Jon harnessed them.
The die made one final bounce, and teetered as if to turn once more in its forward motion, but then fell back the other way to fall with a single pip showing on its face. That -- that wasn't possible. The physics of motion wouldn't allow for the die to move in that way unless some other force Jon couldn't see had acted upon it and pushed it backward.
Jaxen hadn't done anything to the die. Perhaps he'd been about to attempt to manipulate the roll, but Jon had seen no weaves from Jaxen touch it. They'd merely dissipated.
The cards were revealed. Oriena had a small smile on her face as she handed the win over to Jaxen. And it would be Jon's turn to pay a forfeit.
No, no, no. That dice roll had been manipulated, Jon was certain of it. Thoughts of Noah sprung into his head, the last time he'd allowed himself to be tricked. It wasn't that he had an issue with losing, but he was not going to be cheated here, not without gaining something out of it.
Think, Jon. You can figure this out. Okay. So the only player who'd written down a winning number was Oriena. By that action, she could control some part of the outcome. But the die roll had given the win to Jaxen. Now, it was possible that he'd been able to figure out what she had written down, but although he certainly had the means to manipulate the die, he wasn't the one who did it.
That left Oriena as the likely culprit. Jon could easily dismiss the fact that she had handed away the win. She could have a host of reasons why she wanted Jaxen to win the round. Great Spirit, could be a thanks for a good time on the dance floor for all Jon knew. But did she have the means to do it? Was it possible...she could also wield the power of the Great Spirit, but for some reason -- maybe as mundane and separatist a reason as that she was a woman and Jon and Jaxen men -- that he was unable to feel it filling her as he could with Jaxen? While he had absolutely no argument to discount that, he had no evidence it could be the case as well, and because of that he wasn't convinced. Just because Noah had told him of several women who'd been Afflicted wasn't a reason to go jumping to the conclusion every woman he ran into harnessed supernatural powers to their will.
Jon turned his head to Jaxen as the man offered his demand. So. The man knew the truth about the Sickness, and wanted Jon to admit he'd suffered it. So Jaxen wanted to poke that particular elephant in the room. Truthfully, he'd wanted it to come out between the two of them. What did the man know about the Great Spirit -- and did he know of others? Obviously the man wasn't going to go running off to the Atharim, knowing that Jon knew his own secret. Oriena, though...who knew what she might do?
"The Sickness, you say,"
Jon said to Jaxen. Those goosebumps had subsided somewhat, but that chill was still there. He leaned back in his chair and undid his cuff links, baring his arms to the elbows, and rubbed his arms in an attempt to warm them.
And then it hit him. The goosebumps. Aside from the odd behavior of the die, they'd only been so prevalent once before -- when Jon had seen Jaxen's feet knocked from the table. Great Spirit, if he hadn't drunk so much it would have been obvious several minutes ago.
Oriena had done that. And she'd been the one to change the dice roll. Perhaps there were differences in the ability to perceive the use of the power between men and women.
The prickling on his flesh was the connection there. Which meant --
"Truthfully, I couldn't tell you anything of the Sickness that anyone at this table doesn't already know,"
Jon said. His gaze turned from Jaxen to Oriena during his statement and he arched an eyebrow at her.
Maybe Jon should have had that other drink. He considered ending there and perhaps pushing Oriena as the judge in the round to stop the request. With what he'd figured out, it would probably be a simple matter to press her to end the conversation. But there likely wasn't anything to fear by paying the forfeit, not when Jon knew what he knew about the other two, now.
"But there's no friends to snakes at this table,"
Jon continued, having not lifted his eyes from Oriena's -- "So I'll tell you."
He turned to Jaxen. "This was about two years ago. It was the morning after I'd been attacked by some strange creature. I met a man who said he'd had a dream about me. I went with him to his house and --"
Jon paused. This memory was a painful one to bring up. He still wanted to throttle the old man for what he did. "--He drugged me. Kept me asleep for eight days, an unknowing prisoner in his house. When I awoke, I experienced such agony I hope no one ever has to go through. I think my mind has blocked the worst of it. Afterward, he told me he'd seen in his dream that if I had gone to a hospital I would have died. He'd known two that had been sent for medical care and had been met with 'accidents.' And one other that had died under his care."
Jon shivered, a response from his body that had nothing to do with the goosebumps. He really should have had another drink if he was going to take his memory down that particular rabbit hole.
"I hate that man for what he did to me. But he was right about one thing. It wasn't a physical affliction. You just have to gain control over what sparks the reaction.
He turned to Oriena and shrugged. "Like I said, nothing anyone here doesn't already know."
And then Jon felt a surge in the power of the Great Spirit from Jaxen. First the goosebumps, then -- separately -- Jaxen doing something with the power. Translucent threads sprung up around him, but they weren't doing anything that Jon could tell. The weaves -- separate elements, with different hues of color -- looked the same when coming from Jaxen as when Jon harnessed them.
The die made one final bounce, and teetered as if to turn once more in its forward motion, but then fell back the other way to fall with a single pip showing on its face. That -- that wasn't possible. The physics of motion wouldn't allow for the die to move in that way unless some other force Jon couldn't see had acted upon it and pushed it backward.
Jaxen hadn't done anything to the die. Perhaps he'd been about to attempt to manipulate the roll, but Jon had seen no weaves from Jaxen touch it. They'd merely dissipated.
The cards were revealed. Oriena had a small smile on her face as she handed the win over to Jaxen. And it would be Jon's turn to pay a forfeit.
No, no, no. That dice roll had been manipulated, Jon was certain of it. Thoughts of Noah sprung into his head, the last time he'd allowed himself to be tricked. It wasn't that he had an issue with losing, but he was not going to be cheated here, not without gaining something out of it.
Think, Jon. You can figure this out. Okay. So the only player who'd written down a winning number was Oriena. By that action, she could control some part of the outcome. But the die roll had given the win to Jaxen. Now, it was possible that he'd been able to figure out what she had written down, but although he certainly had the means to manipulate the die, he wasn't the one who did it.
That left Oriena as the likely culprit. Jon could easily dismiss the fact that she had handed away the win. She could have a host of reasons why she wanted Jaxen to win the round. Great Spirit, could be a thanks for a good time on the dance floor for all Jon knew. But did she have the means to do it? Was it possible...she could also wield the power of the Great Spirit, but for some reason -- maybe as mundane and separatist a reason as that she was a woman and Jon and Jaxen men -- that he was unable to feel it filling her as he could with Jaxen? While he had absolutely no argument to discount that, he had no evidence it could be the case as well, and because of that he wasn't convinced. Just because Noah had told him of several women who'd been Afflicted wasn't a reason to go jumping to the conclusion every woman he ran into harnessed supernatural powers to their will.
Jon turned his head to Jaxen as the man offered his demand. So. The man knew the truth about the Sickness, and wanted Jon to admit he'd suffered it. So Jaxen wanted to poke that particular elephant in the room. Truthfully, he'd wanted it to come out between the two of them. What did the man know about the Great Spirit -- and did he know of others? Obviously the man wasn't going to go running off to the Atharim, knowing that Jon knew his own secret. Oriena, though...who knew what she might do?
"The Sickness, you say,"
Jon said to Jaxen. Those goosebumps had subsided somewhat, but that chill was still there. He leaned back in his chair and undid his cuff links, baring his arms to the elbows, and rubbed his arms in an attempt to warm them.
And then it hit him. The goosebumps. Aside from the odd behavior of the die, they'd only been so prevalent once before -- when Jon had seen Jaxen's feet knocked from the table. Great Spirit, if he hadn't drunk so much it would have been obvious several minutes ago.
Oriena had done that. And she'd been the one to change the dice roll. Perhaps there were differences in the ability to perceive the use of the power between men and women.
The prickling on his flesh was the connection there. Which meant --
"Truthfully, I couldn't tell you anything of the Sickness that anyone at this table doesn't already know,"
Jon said. His gaze turned from Jaxen to Oriena during his statement and he arched an eyebrow at her.
Maybe Jon should have had that other drink. He considered ending there and perhaps pushing Oriena as the judge in the round to stop the request. With what he'd figured out, it would probably be a simple matter to press her to end the conversation. But there likely wasn't anything to fear by paying the forfeit, not when Jon knew what he knew about the other two, now.
"But there's no friends to snakes at this table,"
Jon continued, having not lifted his eyes from Oriena's -- "So I'll tell you."
He turned to Jaxen. "This was about two years ago. It was the morning after I'd been attacked by some strange creature. I met a man who said he'd had a dream about me. I went with him to his house and --"
Jon paused. This memory was a painful one to bring up. He still wanted to throttle the old man for what he did. "--He drugged me. Kept me asleep for eight days, an unknowing prisoner in his house. When I awoke, I experienced such agony I hope no one ever has to go through. I think my mind has blocked the worst of it. Afterward, he told me he'd seen in his dream that if I had gone to a hospital I would have died. He'd known two that had been sent for medical care and had been met with 'accidents.' And one other that had died under his care."
Jon shivered, a response from his body that had nothing to do with the goosebumps. He really should have had another drink if he was going to take his memory down that particular rabbit hole.
"I hate that man for what he did to me. But he was right about one thing. It wasn't a physical affliction. You just have to gain control over what sparks the reaction.
He turned to Oriena and shrugged. "Like I said, nothing anyone here doesn't already know."