10-23-2013, 06:27 PM
By the time Alric crafted a suitable defense, he was ripped to shreds. His pants were charred along the hem, nicks and cuts welled red across the rest of him, and the man dripped with sweat. He had followed orders, however, and constructed a shell of safety. Though deflecting blow after blow was impractical. Nikolai could have easily tripled what he'd slung the man's way, but for his first attempt at using his powers, it was, not admirable necessarily, but sufficient. All at once, the blows ceased landing. The air fell quiet, silent but for the sound of Alric's heavy breathing.
Nikolai uncrossed and recrossed his legs. This was by far the highlight of his week. Far overshadowing the tourist outside the Arsenal building that fell to his knees in adoration as Nikolai's procession passed him by; twenty-years of worship had dulled the reaction to what was now the normal. The only moment that came close was absorbing the pallor on Nick Trano's face while the man floundered in fear on the back row.
With every round of testing, Nikolai learned more about the man's potential. He did not panic at being set aflame. He gathered a solution and fearlessly found an answer. There was one last question in Nikolai's mind: was he loyal?
He raised a hand, gesturing to whomever watched the scene unfold from beyond these four walls. Both Nikolai and the agent that guarded him glanced when the door opened. The CSS agent who entered was similar to his comrade in size and age. He also wore a well-tailored suit, mandatory attire in the Ascendancy's presence, but from a pocket he attached a silencer onto his sidearm. Any shots fired wouldn't be perfectly silent, but at least it would protect his hearing. After Siberia, his ears rang for three days when Mark took his aim.
A beautiful wall, slightly luminescent, shielded the air before Alric. Shaped to his body like some barbaric Roman soldier hiding behind his shield, it curved slightly around him. Enough that should he remain behind it, he would be protected.
Eyes locked on Alric, "Trust me,"
he told him. Then his voice dropped cold as the grave, and with that, the Ascendancy issued a final command. "Shoot him."
The agent immediately responded, firing three to the chest.
Nikolai uncrossed and recrossed his legs. This was by far the highlight of his week. Far overshadowing the tourist outside the Arsenal building that fell to his knees in adoration as Nikolai's procession passed him by; twenty-years of worship had dulled the reaction to what was now the normal. The only moment that came close was absorbing the pallor on Nick Trano's face while the man floundered in fear on the back row.
With every round of testing, Nikolai learned more about the man's potential. He did not panic at being set aflame. He gathered a solution and fearlessly found an answer. There was one last question in Nikolai's mind: was he loyal?
He raised a hand, gesturing to whomever watched the scene unfold from beyond these four walls. Both Nikolai and the agent that guarded him glanced when the door opened. The CSS agent who entered was similar to his comrade in size and age. He also wore a well-tailored suit, mandatory attire in the Ascendancy's presence, but from a pocket he attached a silencer onto his sidearm. Any shots fired wouldn't be perfectly silent, but at least it would protect his hearing. After Siberia, his ears rang for three days when Mark took his aim.
A beautiful wall, slightly luminescent, shielded the air before Alric. Shaped to his body like some barbaric Roman soldier hiding behind his shield, it curved slightly around him. Enough that should he remain behind it, he would be protected.
Eyes locked on Alric, "Trust me,"
he told him. Then his voice dropped cold as the grave, and with that, the Ascendancy issued a final command. "Shoot him."
The agent immediately responded, firing three to the chest.