01-29-2018, 05:38 PM
Marcus stood by the door and watched. Three men were in the room. Periodically, they glanced at him, but then quickly looked away. They didn't often have an audience. But Marcus was there to watch how they learned and practiced.
The idea had continued to grow in his mind. But it would take care. So delicate care. The Rule of Two was there for a reason. A master, to embody the power. A student, to covet it. Any more, and the infighting and craving for domination would fracture everything.
And yet he was the Consul of the Consulate of Channeling. There was a mandate to provide some training. More than that, the registry had shown there were profoundly gifted people out there, Force users doing things he'd not thought possible.
Nox....the man flicked off nuggets of information like they were forgotten cheap baubles, not realizing the full import of their value- or not caring. He had been....hungry, in the man's presence. Enough that he had had to take control of himself more than once and focus. He did covet, all of it.
So....the challenge. A school for channeling. A way to learn from other Force users. But he had to maintain the upper hand. He had to hold the cards.
The work of a lifetime. A Force using Renaissance Man? Even as he delighted in the thought, he doubted he'd ever be able to know it all. Learn it all.
He needed acolytes. Men and women loyal to him. Also, the work of a lifetime. But it was possible. Possible. The Ascendancy had created order. But there were cracks everywhere. He fed the corruption, used it, played on it. From one perspective, it was brilliant. Always to play one against the other, to use the naked (and nakedly obvious) ambitions of others, to achieve his goals, to keep the upper hand.
But Malik seethed at the chaos, at those cracks, eyed those weeds that spread and the roots that cut deep. And he wanted to break it, bring it all crashing down. Expose it for all that it was, the world with its evil and casual cruelty, of systems that let people starve while the rich threw away mountains of food; of children shunted into homes to be abused and ignored. The Avenging Angel to bring fiery judgement on this world and start anew. Bring a powerful new order.
Always the struggle. Malik and Marcus.
So Marcus watched, learned, filed away. Thought of people he might start with. those he had handles on.
The lull of the use of the Force was something he had grown used to, the men in front of him. It had become sort of comforting, to be in the constant presence of that menace and danger.
That was when he felt a surge in the distance. He smiled to himself. Carpenter. Dr. Weston's methods were....interesting. The surge continued, stronger and stronger. The men looked at him and he shook his head.
He decided to head in that direction. Stronger. Heavier. Just as he approached the room, he saw the lights flicker and heard- and felt- an explosion. He seized the Force, sent large threads of air to rip the door of the hinges. There was smoke everywhere and equipment spraying sparks.
Carpenter was strapped down, struggling. "Be still. You may be injured. Let me get the doctor."
The glass partition separating the exam room from the control room had been blown into a millions shards of glass that littered the room. And the bodies. People in scrubs and lab coats lay scattered about the room, some moaning and moving, others with heads at unnatural angles or bloody gashes from the glass.
He clenched his jaw and moved to the control room where Dr. Weston would be. He hoped she wasn't dead. Her work was too important.
((Ooc. Thot Jay was unconscious. Had to edit he was strugglingy. Apologies))
Edited by Marcus DuBois, Jan 30 2018, 08:26 PM.
The idea had continued to grow in his mind. But it would take care. So delicate care. The Rule of Two was there for a reason. A master, to embody the power. A student, to covet it. Any more, and the infighting and craving for domination would fracture everything.
And yet he was the Consul of the Consulate of Channeling. There was a mandate to provide some training. More than that, the registry had shown there were profoundly gifted people out there, Force users doing things he'd not thought possible.
Nox....the man flicked off nuggets of information like they were forgotten cheap baubles, not realizing the full import of their value- or not caring. He had been....hungry, in the man's presence. Enough that he had had to take control of himself more than once and focus. He did covet, all of it.
So....the challenge. A school for channeling. A way to learn from other Force users. But he had to maintain the upper hand. He had to hold the cards.
The work of a lifetime. A Force using Renaissance Man? Even as he delighted in the thought, he doubted he'd ever be able to know it all. Learn it all.
He needed acolytes. Men and women loyal to him. Also, the work of a lifetime. But it was possible. Possible. The Ascendancy had created order. But there were cracks everywhere. He fed the corruption, used it, played on it. From one perspective, it was brilliant. Always to play one against the other, to use the naked (and nakedly obvious) ambitions of others, to achieve his goals, to keep the upper hand.
But Malik seethed at the chaos, at those cracks, eyed those weeds that spread and the roots that cut deep. And he wanted to break it, bring it all crashing down. Expose it for all that it was, the world with its evil and casual cruelty, of systems that let people starve while the rich threw away mountains of food; of children shunted into homes to be abused and ignored. The Avenging Angel to bring fiery judgement on this world and start anew. Bring a powerful new order.
Always the struggle. Malik and Marcus.
So Marcus watched, learned, filed away. Thought of people he might start with. those he had handles on.
The lull of the use of the Force was something he had grown used to, the men in front of him. It had become sort of comforting, to be in the constant presence of that menace and danger.
That was when he felt a surge in the distance. He smiled to himself. Carpenter. Dr. Weston's methods were....interesting. The surge continued, stronger and stronger. The men looked at him and he shook his head.
He decided to head in that direction. Stronger. Heavier. Just as he approached the room, he saw the lights flicker and heard- and felt- an explosion. He seized the Force, sent large threads of air to rip the door of the hinges. There was smoke everywhere and equipment spraying sparks.
Carpenter was strapped down, struggling. "Be still. You may be injured. Let me get the doctor."
The glass partition separating the exam room from the control room had been blown into a millions shards of glass that littered the room. And the bodies. People in scrubs and lab coats lay scattered about the room, some moaning and moving, others with heads at unnatural angles or bloody gashes from the glass.
He clenched his jaw and moved to the control room where Dr. Weston would be. He hoped she wasn't dead. Her work was too important.
((Ooc. Thot Jay was unconscious. Had to edit he was strugglingy. Apologies))
Edited by Marcus DuBois, Jan 30 2018, 08:26 PM.