08-26-2013, 12:59 PM
For all concerned, Torri ignored the woman beside her. She was literally doing all she could to keep a straight face. Early on she was stellar when it came to keeping her composure. She could silently curse a sergeant screaming in her face and not so much as a flicker of discontent crossed her expression. But this event was certainly not something she wanted to ignore. It was something she wanted to absorb. Not twenty-four hours in Moscow and already she was sixty levels beneath the Kremlin and about to come face to face with the man to whom held her oaths as a soldier, officer, and physician. The Ascendancy himself.
Her heart was rabid in her chest and she physically willed herself to stillness. Do NOT blow this Torri.
She’ll never forget it. The moment he first rounded the corner. Her eyes went straight to him, of course. Having slid across the forms of his entourage; the guards, even the director who would become her boss, faded to a muted background.
He was strangely shorter than she expected, and overall slimmer too. Which wasn’t to say that the Ascendancy wasn’t without presence, but perhaps she’d spent too many years trying to picture what this moment would be like, she’d inevitably built up the image of a conquering gladiator turned benevolent ruler. For shit’s sake. What’d she expect? A leather skirt and a sword?
She saluted as he approached, followed by the return to formality in her posture upon his acknowledgement. This would be the moment she should tell her children about someday. If she ever had them. And if she weren’t under sworn orders to not reveal an ounce of any of this. Did I ever tell you kids about the time I worked in a secret government facility doing illegal research on human subjects and I met the Ascendancy himself face to face? I thought I was going to faint when he looked me in the eye.
The guards in his presence kept a wary eye on her. They made her skin crawl, so she forced herself to focus on him. She gave a curt nod in return to his gracious comments. ”I will do what I can, Ascendancy.” God he was charming...sophisticated. He’s how old?! The cut of his suit, tailored like a second, silken skin, beckoned to be worthy of grazing. The boldness to his gaze; though he was not the beastly warrior, the threat was there; she had no intention of crossing him. And when those eyes settled on hers, she wanted to buckle and look aside. As though he were power incarnate, and she the unclean lamb cast from the temple. Everything she had ever heard about him was real. Everything she’d always laughed at, that you wanted to kneel like a commoner before the throne, that you loved him for loving you, or that you believed utterly in the completeness of his presence, never would Torri balk again.
Her heart was rabid in her chest and she physically willed herself to stillness. Do NOT blow this Torri.
She’ll never forget it. The moment he first rounded the corner. Her eyes went straight to him, of course. Having slid across the forms of his entourage; the guards, even the director who would become her boss, faded to a muted background.
He was strangely shorter than she expected, and overall slimmer too. Which wasn’t to say that the Ascendancy wasn’t without presence, but perhaps she’d spent too many years trying to picture what this moment would be like, she’d inevitably built up the image of a conquering gladiator turned benevolent ruler. For shit’s sake. What’d she expect? A leather skirt and a sword?
She saluted as he approached, followed by the return to formality in her posture upon his acknowledgement. This would be the moment she should tell her children about someday. If she ever had them. And if she weren’t under sworn orders to not reveal an ounce of any of this. Did I ever tell you kids about the time I worked in a secret government facility doing illegal research on human subjects and I met the Ascendancy himself face to face? I thought I was going to faint when he looked me in the eye.
The guards in his presence kept a wary eye on her. They made her skin crawl, so she forced herself to focus on him. She gave a curt nod in return to his gracious comments. ”I will do what I can, Ascendancy.” God he was charming...sophisticated. He’s how old?! The cut of his suit, tailored like a second, silken skin, beckoned to be worthy of grazing. The boldness to his gaze; though he was not the beastly warrior, the threat was there; she had no intention of crossing him. And when those eyes settled on hers, she wanted to buckle and look aside. As though he were power incarnate, and she the unclean lamb cast from the temple. Everything she had ever heard about him was real. Everything she’d always laughed at, that you wanted to kneel like a commoner before the throne, that you loved him for loving you, or that you believed utterly in the completeness of his presence, never would Torri balk again.