Elixir of life

[Marcus DuBois]

Malik very carefully kept his face neutrally friendly. Poor Danika. It wasn't really pity. Marcus was just a voice, at the moment. Spectra could be such a bitch. Every woman an adversary to dominate, to utterly humiliate.

Despite their similarities, they had very different ways of dealing with the world.

Then again, he hadn't been born a girl who had been passed around as merchandise until she found her own place of power. Malevolence at the universe oozed from her.

Malik shared it, of course. It was why he liked her. Shared hatred. And he relished his role as Angel of Judgement. But more than anything else, it fueled him to bring the world to its knees, to break it- crush it all- and remake it in his image.

Spectra had ascended the ranks and had found a power base of her own. But even that was limited. She had been in town yesterday. And yet she had not, after all, been invited to the Ball. Not personally. She could have duped some rich fool to bring her, easily, he was sure. But that was not the same. She had to be seething at that.

The projection completed itself. Spectra was bored. Frustrated. And that excited Malik.

He noticed the changed in Danika's look. She had glimpsed something. He tried to figure out what it was, small feeling of worry spiking his heart. The walk was so delicate.

He smiled at her reassuringly even as she stood. He stood himself, his voice pitching low, Marcus drifting to the surface. He had done nothing wrong, and yet Marcus wanted to reassure her. "Do you have to go?" He paused, Malik prodding him. "I had a wonderful time."

Malik rolled his eyes internally.

Let her go, he said irritably. He did not like Danika at all.

"Let me at least call a car for you."

[Spectra Lin]

Spectra leaned back, legs crossed at the knee and smiled triumphantly. The sweet little white girl fled with barely a swat of the hand. Spectra's smile glittered like uncut diamonds at Marcus, "She's adorable, Marcos." The little extra roll of the tongue sweetened the sound of his name on her lips. It was the small sort of trick that once curled men's souls around her pinkie finger, drawing them in like a fist tugging their ties. They didn't realize until it was too late that such would become the noose with which they would hang themselves.. Metaphorically at least.

[Marcus DuBois]

Marcus sat back down as Danika left, relaxing as he leaned back to consider Spectra, seated so innocently. A cat who had played with her prey before smiling, tail dangling from lips.

Malik laughed. "You look like the cat that ate the canary." He gestured with his head in the direction Danika had left. He had no interest in swelling Spectra's ego. "She is rather important. And the work she is doing. Her...'adorableness' did you call it? Well, it is a nice bonus, don't you think?"

He sipped at his coffee as his eyes swept over her. She radiated a dark malevolence he found intoxicating. With a twinkle in his eye a look that would not melt butter on his tongue, he added, "I wish I had known you were in the city. You could have accompanied me to the ball."

He was fairly sure this small barb would provoke her. But what was a prick, even a small one, without a prize as well. "I rather think you would have enjoyed the festivities. He paused. "Especially there at the end."

The sentence dangled there. Despite the events with Danika last night, Malik had already begun to think on his own plans. Intricate puzzle pieces sat on the table, useful only when fit together just so.

And it wasn't like the Ascendancy could keep what had happened from being known, not with the attendees being the creme de la creme of CCD society. Sans Spectra, of course.

With a hint of secret and promise of more in his eye, he went on, "In fact, I made the most fascinating of acquaintances last night. An amazing woman. Though in truth, not rightly called a woman."

He stifled his memory of the infinite agony and endless torture he'd experienced, preferring instead to remember the destruction of those ijiraq, their screaming deaths. And the feel of the Force slicing through another's connection.

Especially that creature with the bearing of a queen that had possessed Oriena Rusayev. In a small voice, he went on. "I'd imagine you and her might have found each other interesting."

Finally, he allowed the mask to drop a hair, a hint of promise. "She had presence that reminded me of you."

[Spectra Lin]

As soon as the girl slipped away, it was like a costume was doffed and the real skin beneath was exposed. Marcus used people. He admitted as much. Spectra found no shame in it. Good for him to grapple for handholds and clench tight to the wall he climbed. For indeed it was a mountain he scaled. Likewise, Spectra would not hesitate to let him carry her to the summit. She had no desire to rule the world or play queens like life was some ghastly game of endless thrones. She would be included, though. Marcus' hint flickered shadows across her sculptural face. Not invited except as someone's date and not on her own value. As property. For all she attained in the world, shackles still bound her wrists incarcerating her to the life she refused to be destined to live.

These stories that he alluded to, though, did not chase away the shadows nor did they inspire them to dance in jubilation. "I am not a sadistic monster, Marcos." Her words clipped a dangerous warning. For all the beauty on the exterior, maybe poison flushed beneath the surface, but not by her own choosing. "I heard rumors. In fact, I am glad to have avoided the danger completely. I am told a woman was a victim."

She searched the inner lining of Marcus' costumes for hints of truth. He dropped crumbs and carrots, and for now, Spectra was willing to chase after so long as she got a satisfactory bite once in a while. "If she wasn't a woman, what would you call her?"

[Marcus DuBois]

Marcus looked at her quizically, for a moment trying to understand. And then he saw his misstep. "Ahh. I did not mean to imply you were a sadistic monster. Especially given the imaginative rumors of last night." He did raise an eyebrow while giving a nod in respect. "Though I doubt any deserving object of your rage might not see it that way." A grin. "I know they've thought me so." It was why he liked her. He could be himself. Malik. Not completely. But close enough.

"I merely meant the 'woman' had a certain....bearing." Malik's eyes went distant as he remembered the massive amounts of Force that permeated the room. He'd gloried in it, the raw power swirling around him, those he could feel and those he could only see with his mind, coming from the women. "In a room of channelers, her minions destroyed, surrounded and defeated, she held court as if she were in charge. And in every way that mattered....she did."

He stifled a shiver. Covetous fingers curled around his heart. It made Ascendancy look a child. He let his awe drift away, purposefully focusing on her. "In seeing you here today, I saw similar bearing." The pieces were there. He just needed to see how everything fit.

He waved his mug as he took a sip. "As to what 'she' was....well I only know a few things." He wasn't going to give her an info dump at this moment. A thumbnail explanation would do. "She is an ancient creature called an ijiraq. On more than one occasion they have come after channelers, to kill them." He stifled the memory of it almost succeedng. "They are largely immune to the power. Not completely, of course. They can be killed. I wouldn't have survived two encounters with them without learning how to do that." He shrugged.

"She appeared to be their queen, for lack of a better term. And she wanted to stop those who were using her servants. Ordinary humans were forcing them." He wondered if she understood the magnitude of what he was saying.

He did not hide his interest. Purposefully. Finally it was time. Honesty was so very useful. And underrated. "It's just the tip of the iceberg, really. As if a blanket has been ripped away, exposing a reality we had no idea existed. A new world for us. And now, all of that is being channeled-" a smile at his unintended pun- "through the Consulate."

[Danika]

Marcus and Spectra blurred to her world as Dani rubbed her temples. Her head was heavy as a bowling ball. She shoved the remainder of her bagel into her mouth, gathered her stuff and checked the time. Yep, her appointment was ready at the salon. A good bag of saline and vitamins should help cure the hangover. She'd pay extra for all the upgraded options, too. Anything to get rid of the hangover.  She put on as polite a smile as she could when she departed.

[Spectra Lin]

Whatever this thing that Marcus described, it spooked him. Worse rumors flooded the internet. They spoke of catastrophe and terror. Spectra blinked with awe, “It seems I was lucky to not attend after all.” An interesting idea of ordinary humans controlling these things. “You have much work, señor Consul. If you are to find these creatures and bring them to your control. You know, I have wondered how you will punish channelers when they would otherwise go to a jail. They cannot be contained by brick walls, can they?” She was inflating his ego purposefully, suggesting Marcus himself held the keys to answering her questions.

[Marcus DuBois]

Malik preened a little at the hint of awe in her tone. A tool of hers, to be sure. But though hidden, pride was a core Sith principle. And in this case...well, he enjoyed it. He did.

He sipped his coffee, the hazelnut taming the sharpness of the Arabian blend, eyes scrutizing her. The pieces were laid out. She could see the opportunity, if she chose to. Her last comment only made it clear a razor sharp mind hid behind those emerald eyes and smokey looks. "And so you cut to the core all at once Spectra."

His mouth turned down with a hint of sadness. "You are wasted as a jewel for the world to admire. A bauble for men or women to vie for and wear on their arm." He glanced down at the bags on the ground, filled with the finest of things- empty and meaningless things- before meeting her eyes, allowing her to see the hunger that drove him. "Surely, you want more of this world."

He leaned forward, his rolled up sleeves cool against the wrought metal table, voice low but tinged with a hint of excitement. "To answer your question.. In fact, in tandem, last night, working together and off each other we discovered how to do exactly that thing. To hold a channeler safely." He paused. It was not the discovery that excited him. It was the pooling of knowledge itself. The possibility. His pool needed to be an ocean. All funneled through him.

He sat back, studying her, thinking on her life. The CCD had files on everyone, especially CIA operatives. He had learned of Spectra Lin's past after the first time they met. It was something few knew. His voice was soft and musing. "Lola Fatima Cruz may not have had the opportunities Danika Zayed had. But even so, look how far she has gone. How high do you think Spectra Lin can climb?"

And he smiled at her, eyes glittering.

[Spectra Lin]

What smile his words may have lit upon her Lucious lips died as soon as her true name was uttered. 
A derisive sniff met the marble globes that were his eyes. 
"you bait me, but the name means nothing. It's words on a piece of paper I burned long ago." 

Yet for what she said, she knew the lie was festering beneath her skin. It would inch and worm its way around until she squirmed if she wasn't careful. It didn't surprise her that the great Consul had access to her past. Now that she considered it, "I am to guess that means you find me interesting, Señor Consul. Maybe I want to get to know you better, hmm?" 

She tilted her chin, fingers curled snug in her cup.

[Marcus DuBois]

Her derisive response was unexpected. He wasn't sure what, exactly, he thought it might be, not really. And yet still good for all that. He'd hit a nerve. Which meant for all her words, he was in the right place.

That was what really mattered. Good, bad, hot, cold, lust, hate. All that was important was that his words meant something to her.

Ahh, but she wouldn't the woman he enjoyed so if she had been soft and haunted, a broken winged bird. Fire coursed through her veins. Yes, she definitely needed to be part of his Sphere. Just the thought of the word sent a chill up his spine. It was years away, still. And yet between the Consulate and now a personal network- whether they believed in him or acted out of self interest- he had the beginnings of a serious power base from which to act. So many interesting possibilities lay ahead.

He nodded, as if in understanding, though he knew her words false. Erase the past all you like, it was and would always and forever remain the fiery cauldron that forged you. And made you stronger if you survived and thrived because of it.

He smiled, surprised. "Of course. I find you fascinating. The 'you' I catch glimpses of." Another calculated remark, given his own nature. An answer to her question. An invitation, even.

He sat back, arms resting naturally on the table, open and hiding nothing, and studied her tilted beautiful face. "And I would expect nothing less from you. We should know the people we get in bed with, no?" His look was a touch playful and...pointed, given their last encounter. Viperish fangs and seething rage quickly hidden by the tease of flesh and a honeyed seductive tongue. He had enjoyed their sparring far more than he expected. Few were able match the rage that flowed through him. "In a manner of speaking," he added after a pause. "I am an open book for you."

Malik was curious to see how much he was willing to tell her. Very likely, she had a senstive ear for easy lies. She didn't need to know everything. But there were still things he might share. She would think she was using him. But that was ok.