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The Launch Party ((Radiance))
#41
Adrian led the group from the elevator into his penthouse with the practiced ease of a seasoned host. As the doors of the elevator opened, the sprawling expanse of his luxurious abode lay before them, bathed in the soft glow of designer lighting. The space was a seamless blend of modern sophistication and a masculine, almost old-world charm – not quite stepping into the past, but evoking a sense of timelessness that matched its owner.

There was an impressive view of the city and the winding river below, visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined one side of the space. The city twinkled like stars, although obviously no stars shone in the sky above Moscow’s bright landscape. The furnishings were of rich textures, supple leather, and high design. They contrasted warmly against sleek, contemporary art pieces, creating a space that was both inviting and imposing.

Adrian watched his guests take in his home. It was quite satisfying. He had decorated this space to be a statement – a reflection of his success and his taste — with the same utmost care as he the remainder of the building.

Soft music filled the background, creating an ambiance that was lively yet conducive to conversation. Some guests from the party were already there, mingling and enjoying the atmosphere. A staff member, adept at his craft, was preparing drinks from Adrian’s personal collection, offering them to the newcomers.

As he moved among his guests, Adrian pondered his reasons for inviting this particular group. While his demeanor was that of a polite host, part of his mind was occupied with a more calculating thought. One of these individuals, he suspected, had information or connections that would be of interest to him. He wasn't sure who it was, but he was determined to find out, all while maintaining the façade of the congenial businessman.

Introducing himself individually to each member of the group, Adrian's charisma shone through. He had a natural ability to direct attention, his presence a mixture of command and approachability. He made sure to broker introductions between his guests, fostering connections, his eyes and ears open for any snippet of conversation that might give him the insight he sought.

"Welcome to my home," Adrian announced to the group, his voice carrying effortlessly over the music. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. Tonight is about relaxation and good company. Perhaps also recovery from the earlier excitement.” He joked dryly.

As he spoke, his gaze subtly swept over each guest, a silent assessment hidden behind a superficial smile.

((Adrian will mingle a while, but remain visible and approachable if anyone wants to talk to him.))
"Of all men's miseries the bitterest is this: to know so much and to have control over nothing."
+ Adrian +


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#42
Mister Kane’s home was a striking contrast to the chaos they had just left behind. Upon entering the space, he took in the luxurious surroundings with a mixture of awe and disquieting comfort. The modern yet almost old-world decor, the view of the city lights and river through the expansive windows, and the blend of music and conversation created an ambience that was both inviting and familiar. It harkened back to his old life in a way that frightened him with how much he missed it. In all these years of shame and self-reflection, Jensen was fully aware that he once filled emptiness with materialism. With the Gift and what he could do with it, that hole was plugged but yet leaked around the edges. While fighting this dual side of himself, the desires of soul and the flesh, he felt the edge tip toward flesh, and he stood slightly taller, and he summoned the bravery to push through his own trepidation. He was still processing the events of the evening and his place among them when Sage approached.

“I am very good at keeping secrets. I didn't know that was one you kept. You are very obvious about your interactions. Anyone who pays attention would know you. Sometimes the truth hurts. It's often why it's called the Wicked Truth," Sage said, his smile widening. "But this won't get out of hand. The videos will find a way to the trash and any that post might find they shared something completely different instead."

Jensen listened, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over him. Sage's reassurance was unexpected but welcome. "Thank you," Jensen replied, his tone lighter than the situation expected. Perhaps Sage’s frivolity was rubbing off. "I guess I'm not as good at hiding as I thought. Your help... it means a lot."

He managed a small, somewhat wry smile. "Seems I've got a bit more to learn about keeping a low profile. You're right about the truth, though. It has a way of coming out, doesn't it? Sharper than any two-edged sword."
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#43
Sage giggled. "One can say that. Secrets always have a way of slipping out whether we mean to or not. My friend has an affliction he doesn't want to be healed, but we'd like to know what's going on. Sage smiled. "But that's for another meeting. Today I'm doing the noble thing." He couldn't be anymore obvious with the connections than this at least not without saying he was the Wicked Truth.
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#44
Adrian was a patient host, though he derived his superficial mingling from the deep reservoirs of his disciplined soul to endure it. He checked in on each guest, and ensured everyone had what they needed. His outward demeanor was relaxed and welcoming, if a little stiff, yet beneath the surface, his mind was at work, observing and analyzing. His gaze often studied the men in the room. He was subtly trying to sense something unusual about any of them, suspecting that one might be a channeler, and after that, the saboteur.

Adrian had always had a knack for reading people, but his true insight came from visiting their dreams. However, he needed to personally meet those whose minds he intended to visit, hence the purpose of this impromptu party.

Mid-conversation, a realization struck Adrian. There was someone missing, someone he had specifically wanted at this gathering. Excusing himself, he stepped aside to communicate with his building staff.

Security, is the last guest still in the building?

A few moments later, his staff responded. We've located him, Mr. Kane. A security image was also transmitted.

Send someone to invite him and Miss Lin upstairs. Make sure they accept the invite.

As the staff carried out his orders, Adrian returned to his hosting duties, outwardly as calm and charismatic as ever.
"Of all men's miseries the bitterest is this: to know so much and to have control over nothing."
+ Adrian +


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#45
Brave boy wasn’t afraid of a little dirty talk. She liked it. There hadn’t been much talking the night he was caught in her web. That was why she came away not even knowing his name, the heat between them had been that intense.

She liked this attention. He wasn’t the first to worship at her altar, but there was something different about the intensity with which he went about it. He was his own man, confident that he could satisfy her, and able to stand beneath the directness of her presence. Other men were so awe-struck and obsessive, they were pathetic about it. The mafia connection explained some of it. Those types were always so full of themselves, and some of them deserved the engorged ego, but Spectra rarely found the full package: brains, brawn, and sheer cockiness wrapped up in one body so attractive, she could quiver just imagining it against her.

To that end, she tilted her chin as if studying him with the same question he posed at the end. Why would Spectra dally with a nobody? Especially when she could have almost anyone she wanted? She recently blew off the son of Moscow’s patron, a powerful man in his own right with connections to the types of echelons that Spectra intended to rule, but he was an insect of a man and no amount of pretty face and sky-high strings could make her see past the veneer of masculinity he wore like a ratty scarf. She’d rather fuck old man Myshelov himself than dawdle with his boy like a child on pursestrings.

“New guy, modesty doesn’t become you.” She pressed against him, using her thigh to rub against his. “And you’re certainly not little.” They both knew of what she spoke.

“Maybe I will tire of you, eventually, but until then, enjoy the attention, won’t you?” She kissed him deeply, wrapping her arms around his neck and twining her legs between his. She enjoyed the weight of his body against hers, even as she pressed him into the wall behind him.
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#46
Maksim drew his brother away from the other guests. There was an intensity in Maksim's eyes that immediately put Ezvin on alert.

"How do you know Jensen?” Maksim asked, his tone low and urgent. His eyes were probing in a way that was very unlike his brother.

Ezvin, slightly taken aback, replied, "We met recently. But I don't know much about him, really. Tonight was... surprising." He thought about Jensen's display of channeling.

Maksim's expression grew more serious. “You came together?” He glanced in Jensen’s direction as if studying him anew, before he continued, “Be careful, Ezvin. Jensen... he's not someone to get tangled up with. I can’t tell you how I know this, though you might have guessed by now, but he's involved in people beyond our level. You don’t want to be mixed up in all that.”

Before Ezvin could probe further, Alina arrived at the party. The conversation shifted abruptly as Maksim and Ezvin went to greet her. Alina and Ezvin exchanged friendly hellos, a brief respite from the tension of the previous warning.

As the trio conversed, Ezvin's gaze wandered to Aiden, who was now standing alone, with his date having engaged Jensen. The earlier conversation with Jensen, coupled with Maksim's cryptic warning, left Ezvin conflicted. Part of him wanted to return to Jensen, to understand more about him and who he was tangled up with, but Maksim’s words echoed in his mind. He did guess, knowing some of the story that Maksim shared the night he left the hospital, but he wouldn’t confront Jensen about it. The worry threaded anyway. If what Maksim suggested was correct, Ezvin had every reason to stay away. Maksim might be afforded some protection as Scion’s heir, but such advantages were abridged extensions for Ezvin. Yet, although they were across the room, a quiet note of jealousy threatened to arise as he watched Sage and Jensen talk. He was utterly torn.

Taking a deep breath, Ezvin made something of a decision — or better yet, he procrastinated on making a more definitive one. He excused himself from Maksim and Alina. He quickly googled Aiden’s favorite drink, requested two from Adrian’s staff, and approached the rock star instead. The opportunity to talk to Aiden was too good to pass up, and perhaps it was for the best to keep a distance from Jensen, at least for now.

He offered the drink as a peacemaking gesture and tucked his hair behind one ear afterward with his free hand, summoning his courage. Even in his industry, it was a big deal to swap drinks with Aiden Finnegan. ”I still owed you that drink.”
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#47
Jensen understood that he was speaking with the individual who identified themselves as the Wicked Truth.

He was ready to help despite the uncertainties of the evening. "I'm always open to helping where I can," Jensen said sincerely. "If there's anything I can do for your friend, I'd be glad to see what I can do. Just let me know when."

As he spoke with Sage, Jensen's gaze drifted across the room to where Ezvin was talking quietly with Maksim. He saw them part ways, and then Ezvin moved to greet Aiden. The look Ezvin had given him earlier lingered, a mix of concern and something else - something unreadable - that left Jensen feeling uneasy.

He didn’t blame Ezvin for the awkwardness between them. The night had been a whirlwind of revelations and emotions. Being one of the Ascendancy’s channelers would be enough to turn away some individuals. Or it could be keeping the secret for as long as he had, though surely one coffee and a few minutes of conversation wasn’t adequate time to reveal something so personal. He was going to tell him, eventually. 

"I hope everything's alright," Jensen said, more to himself than to Sage, his gaze watching Ezvin. The concern in his voice was evident . "I mean, with Ezvin... after what happened at the party." He somberly brushed his hair back with a palm.

Turning back to Sage. "Do you think your friend could come here tonight? It might be a good opportunity to meet and understand what he's going through."

The suggestion was as much about seizing the chance to help as it was about finding a reason to stay, or to not feel the sting of rejection he feared might be coming from Ezvin.
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#48
With that, Alistair was interrupted, the breath taken out of his lungs. He suffocated as his breath escaped, unable to move while her lips touched his and her thigh ran between his legs. Alistair tensed, every muscle in his body tightening, blood thickening with resolve. Possessed by the taste of her, he wasn't weak or lifeless but overpowered. He held the power to destroy, to maim a man in seconds, yet he kept this power in check, allowing her to devour her prey. His body became a choice cut of meat.

His pocket started to buzz. Ignoring the incoming texts from Nadya, franticly trying to find him, he tightly gripped her shoulders, barely holding her back.
Then suddenly, "Ahem." A few seconds passed, "Ahem, Alistair, Spectra. Adrian sent me to ensure you knew you were invited to his apartment. A few select VIPs are gathering there to keep the party going."

"VIPs? Even me? Sure, I think we could take a break. It's not like we were in the middle of anything,"  Alistair snarkily chirped back. He looked at Spectra with a confident look, aware that only certain people were invited to this party. "Guess they'll let anyone in. Maybe I should meet you there," he suggested. Alistair leaned in to whisper softly in her ear with a raspy, breathy voice, "You wouldn't want to be seen with a nobody."  
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#49
She heard the footsteps before they were interrupted, and flung the side-eye as soon as her name was spoken. Spectra stifled an inward grown simply because she knew what was coming. The look she threw could have thrown daggers, but she slowly idled away from Alistair long enough to endure the invitation. Despite the depths she had plunged her tongue down his throat, her makeup remained flawless, and ruby red lips curled into a smile that begged the messenger to dare continue.

With a graceful flick of her hair, Spectra resettled the straps of her dress upon her slender shoulders, fixing Alistair with a mischievous glance. It was unknown if his suggestion that they enter separately was taken well, especially after she had strongly urged him to dispel with the false modesty. That he didn’t immediately bow to her demands only made her more interested. For now, she would play the game, but only on the predicated on the assumption that she would inevitably win.

“Don’t be long,” she dragged a sharp fingernail down his cheek and suggested that the way be shown to her.

In the elevator's mirrored interior, Spectra reassured herself of her impeccable appearance. "So, tell me about your boss, this Adrian," she inquired without diverting her attention from her reflection.

"He's a fair boss, demands much but justifiably so," the man replied, his eyes briefly meeting hers in the reflection.

"And?" she pressed, her interest piqued.

He hesitated. "Well, he works tirelessly. Offers good benefits."

She might have rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What do you want to know?”

Her gaze locked onto his, unflinching. She sensed his hesitation wasn't about misunderstanding her words. A generous tip quickly loosened his lips, and he divulged details about Adrian, painting a picture ripe with possibilities for Spectra.

As she stepped into the party, familiar faces from the earlier launch greeted her. Heading straight for Adrian, she navigated the crowd with ease. While she expected recognition - as was typical in her circles - she extended her hand first, a blend of confidence and courtesy. "Spectra," she introduced herself, her handshake firm yet inviting.
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#50
Sage chuckled. "If he's scared away by a little channeling then he's not dating the right guy. You are all the same -- can't keep it in your pants even if you wanted to. It's like a drug." Sage knew all too well how it all went. He was dating a channeler. His best friend was a channeler. It was mostly a joke but not really.

"We can go over there if you want. I don't think my friend would be good company right now." Sage glanced at the time on his phone. "He'll be fifty bucks in on tips or halfway done with a fight. Either way he'll be grouchy, hungry and probably very horny. All side effects of a bite gone wrong. He can explain, more daytime than this time of day."
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