03-29-2023, 05:06 AM
(This post was last modified: 03-30-2023, 02:35 AM by Marcus DuBois.)
An electric thrill coursed through Malik at the feel of cold steel at his forehead. He didn't let the webs go, though one tendril snaked away, threads of air writhing around it as it worked its way into the barrel, creating a solid plug of air.
Ryker wouldn't shoot him, he was sure. But accidents could happen. He had no plans of dying because of a sneeze.
A ghost of smile touched his lips as he studied the man's reaction. He did admire the balsy stand. And of course, the bravado and conciliation, a curious contradictory mix, was enough to tell him he hadn't been...possessed.
It also told him that this place hadn't broken him. And that he was willing to work with him. That had been what he was looking for.
Malik waited a moment longer and then let the probing webs dissipate. He was still alert- to Ryker, to the prison, to whatever that thing was. But they appeared safe for a moment.
Something the man said gave him pause. His shield. Marcus hadnt investigated it before. But now....A finger of spirit formed and he tried to touch Ryker's core, that place that was somehow surrounding him and was the center of him at the same time. Marcus had imagined it as a Klein Bottle. Malik didn't really care.
His finger slid along something that felt smooth, smooth enough to make glass feel rough. A nothingness that formed a shell. He'd mentioned that bitch. His focus returned to Ryker's face. "A woman did this to you?"
The forgotten metal was no longer cold against his head. He turned, looking about the room, sending his webs out again, trying to feel what he had before. He thought he might have a better idea of what it tasted like.
Absently, as he searched, he said "I could try to break it for you. With enough power I could. It wouldnt be hard to fracture it, I think." A cruel smile appeared as he looked back at the man, peering into him "You might not like it though." And then he moved to stand near the guard, sending his tendrils into the body.
There was a...rottenness to his flesh. It felt pulpy and tasted spoiled. The tips of his gnarled fingers appeared black. Not a burn. He'd seen what those looked like. More than seen. It wasn't like anything he'd ever observed or done.
He continued. "I will take you to the Academy." The official name was the Academy of Channeling Research. In his mind, Malik called it the Jedi Academy. It amused him. "There are one or two women who I think could break it for you without hurting you."
Finished looking at the body, he looked at Ryker, appraising. He would be useful, he decided. "It's your choice. If you choose to wait, then let's continue."
Ryker wouldn't shoot him, he was sure. But accidents could happen. He had no plans of dying because of a sneeze.
A ghost of smile touched his lips as he studied the man's reaction. He did admire the balsy stand. And of course, the bravado and conciliation, a curious contradictory mix, was enough to tell him he hadn't been...possessed.
It also told him that this place hadn't broken him. And that he was willing to work with him. That had been what he was looking for.
Malik waited a moment longer and then let the probing webs dissipate. He was still alert- to Ryker, to the prison, to whatever that thing was. But they appeared safe for a moment.
Something the man said gave him pause. His shield. Marcus hadnt investigated it before. But now....A finger of spirit formed and he tried to touch Ryker's core, that place that was somehow surrounding him and was the center of him at the same time. Marcus had imagined it as a Klein Bottle. Malik didn't really care.
His finger slid along something that felt smooth, smooth enough to make glass feel rough. A nothingness that formed a shell. He'd mentioned that bitch. His focus returned to Ryker's face. "A woman did this to you?"
The forgotten metal was no longer cold against his head. He turned, looking about the room, sending his webs out again, trying to feel what he had before. He thought he might have a better idea of what it tasted like.
Absently, as he searched, he said "I could try to break it for you. With enough power I could. It wouldnt be hard to fracture it, I think." A cruel smile appeared as he looked back at the man, peering into him "You might not like it though." And then he moved to stand near the guard, sending his tendrils into the body.
There was a...rottenness to his flesh. It felt pulpy and tasted spoiled. The tips of his gnarled fingers appeared black. Not a burn. He'd seen what those looked like. More than seen. It wasn't like anything he'd ever observed or done.
He continued. "I will take you to the Academy." The official name was the Academy of Channeling Research. In his mind, Malik called it the Jedi Academy. It amused him. "There are one or two women who I think could break it for you without hurting you."
Finished looking at the body, he looked at Ryker, appraising. He would be useful, he decided. "It's your choice. If you choose to wait, then let's continue."