10-18-2013, 04:54 PM
"Do not apologize superfluously, Alric,"
Nikolai chastised before answering. An operative of his level should be able to more closely toe the line between deference and humility. The Ascendancy was renown for surrounding himself with powerhouses: the men and women of his inner circle were strong-willed, confident, and effective. These few months may have been difficult for Alric, but as an elite, he would be held to a higher standard than most. The German-born was no civilian too fragile for the minor adversities he'd endured. If he were going to be the sword Nikolai meant to unleash on the world, he would be tempered to satisfaction. There simply was no other option.
"What is known about this Power is only what I will choose to reveal to you in time."
At the withdrawing of his hands, the table blanked to stillness once more. He did not, however, have need to thumb the cold band circling one finger to sense a minute change in Alric's demeanor. Biometrics may confirm it, but Nikolai was talented enough at reading others to sense the change. It was subtle for the lay civilian to notice, but for a political mastermind honed into the saturation of the world in his grasp, theirs was child's play. Still, it was edifying to see the brief gleam of Alric's potential: addressing the power as theirs meant he was on path to accept their shared divinity. They were elevated beings, and if there were others, it was going to become Nikolai's duty to assess who was and was not worthy of the exaltation.
"As such, you are at my mercy. There is none other to instruct you. Ones such as us have not existed in thousands of years,"
a hint of twisted humor surfaced momentarily. Nikolai Brandon was not known for light-heartedness, but the repartee was shallowed by the glint in his eye. "But worry not. What took me years on my own, you will master in weeks at my hand."
There was no time such as the present. The darkening of Nikolai's intensity was Alric's only warning. Power coursing, Nik calmly directed levers to snake beneath the man's arms and lift him as a babe from the floor only to be pinned helpless to the wall behind. Nikolai laced his fingers together, laid gently on his lap, and glossed unconcerned over Alric's reaction. With no effort at all, needle-like flows of power, hot as the sun itself, were sewn into the fibers of his pants as they cuffed around his shoes. As a result, they erupted into smoldering licks of fire. Alric had moments, perhaps thirty seconds, before the flames consumed enough cloth to reach his ankles.
"Put it out,"
Nikolai instructed, raising his voice to firm command. "Take the Power,"
he urged. "I know you sense it! Move the fire. I suggest you hurry."
It was as simple as that. Alric was GSG9 trained. He should be able to control his panic and follow orders. There were a dozen places in the room he could transfer the bulk of energy: to the cold stone wall behind him, the heavy metal furniture, or the slick tile floors underfoot -- or in Alric's case, far beneath him. Dissipation was the key. If not, he was likely to be burnt alive.
Nikolai chastised before answering. An operative of his level should be able to more closely toe the line between deference and humility. The Ascendancy was renown for surrounding himself with powerhouses: the men and women of his inner circle were strong-willed, confident, and effective. These few months may have been difficult for Alric, but as an elite, he would be held to a higher standard than most. The German-born was no civilian too fragile for the minor adversities he'd endured. If he were going to be the sword Nikolai meant to unleash on the world, he would be tempered to satisfaction. There simply was no other option.
"What is known about this Power is only what I will choose to reveal to you in time."
At the withdrawing of his hands, the table blanked to stillness once more. He did not, however, have need to thumb the cold band circling one finger to sense a minute change in Alric's demeanor. Biometrics may confirm it, but Nikolai was talented enough at reading others to sense the change. It was subtle for the lay civilian to notice, but for a political mastermind honed into the saturation of the world in his grasp, theirs was child's play. Still, it was edifying to see the brief gleam of Alric's potential: addressing the power as theirs meant he was on path to accept their shared divinity. They were elevated beings, and if there were others, it was going to become Nikolai's duty to assess who was and was not worthy of the exaltation.
"As such, you are at my mercy. There is none other to instruct you. Ones such as us have not existed in thousands of years,"
a hint of twisted humor surfaced momentarily. Nikolai Brandon was not known for light-heartedness, but the repartee was shallowed by the glint in his eye. "But worry not. What took me years on my own, you will master in weeks at my hand."
There was no time such as the present. The darkening of Nikolai's intensity was Alric's only warning. Power coursing, Nik calmly directed levers to snake beneath the man's arms and lift him as a babe from the floor only to be pinned helpless to the wall behind. Nikolai laced his fingers together, laid gently on his lap, and glossed unconcerned over Alric's reaction. With no effort at all, needle-like flows of power, hot as the sun itself, were sewn into the fibers of his pants as they cuffed around his shoes. As a result, they erupted into smoldering licks of fire. Alric had moments, perhaps thirty seconds, before the flames consumed enough cloth to reach his ankles.
"Put it out,"
Nikolai instructed, raising his voice to firm command. "Take the Power,"
he urged. "I know you sense it! Move the fire. I suggest you hurry."
It was as simple as that. Alric was GSG9 trained. He should be able to control his panic and follow orders. There were a dozen places in the room he could transfer the bulk of energy: to the cold stone wall behind him, the heavy metal furniture, or the slick tile floors underfoot -- or in Alric's case, far beneath him. Dissipation was the key. If not, he was likely to be burnt alive.