Radio Silence (Abandoned industrial district)

[Zholdin Gregorovich]

He sat like a marble carving, his eyes shadowed but bright with something primal beneath the calm. The laughter had long died down. Even the crew felt the shift in the air. Dante walked like a man who didn’t fear consequences. His voice dripped with the kind of certainty Zholdin had only ever seen in madmen and warlords.

But when the man’s fingers trailed across Zholdin’s shoulders, lingering too long, something electric snapped through the room. Chairs scraped. Boots thudded. Limon and Mikov were on their feet in an instant, hands reaching for weapons, the rest not far behind despite their collective injuries. The room didn’t breathe.

Zholdin lifted a hand. Just a flick of his fingers. Nothing more. And like dogs to a whistle, the men froze, glanced at one another, then slowly, deliberately, backed down. No orders. No barked commands. Just one movement, and the room obeyed.

Zholdin smirked, but it was the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “If you really want to suck my dick, you’ll have to ask nicely,” he said. A ripple of uneasy laughter moved through the crew, unsure whether they were meant to laugh or brace for a corpse.

Zholdin stood with the stiffness of a man who’d killed through worse. His leg burned from the venom, but he didn’t limp, refusing to show it now. His hands flexed once at his sides facing Dante full on.

His green was of bared teeth that may as well have shown fangs for all their mirth. 
"Let me tell you something, Dante." His voice curled around the name like it was something he was ready to break. "I don’t run. I don’t kneel. And if I find out there’s something burning inside me that can tear the world apart?”

Arms spreading lightly, like daring a bullet to do its job, he accepted this duel.

"Then light the fucking match.”

[Giovanni]

Giovanni’s lips curved up in a smile at the reaction to his touch. He hadn’t touch Zholdin because he was interested in him. Lust wasn’t involved. Giovanni didn’t care about such things. He had simply wanted to see a reaction. Zholdin himself hadn’t responded much to it, with the exception of a quip, but his crew’s response had been quite amusing. Giovanni had wanted to put the gang leader on edge, but the man was stoic, keeping control of himself. That would be helpful should he prove to be able to wield the god powers.

Giovanni’s face turned to Gyrm as Zholdin continued establishing his dick size. The woman stood, nervousness in her posture. There was a tension there. She wanted to act. Giovanni was sure of that, but she couldn’t - not here. A lioness she may be, but she was surrounded by predators. Giovanni supposed he could understand her frustration. After all, he was the exact reason why her order hunted those like him. He gave her a knowing smile.

Giovanni turned back to Zholdin. ”I would expect no less,” his comment marked with an anticipatory grin. The man wanted to light the match, and Giovanni was happy to oblige, but first he wanted to see if the match would take before he poured some gasoline on the situation.

Giovanni began to remove his coat, revealing a simple grey t-shirt underneath. ”Wielding the power is all about control. It’s there within - a well of power, but it’s not stagnant. It’s furious - a volcano waiting to erupt. To weld the power you must contain it and wrestle it into your control. You control it - not the other way around, and it will fight you for it. You must not run from it and you must not kneel to it,” he said with a smirk. Remember that.”

It was one of the few times in recent memory that Giovanni had been sincere. Gregorovich wasn’t his enemy…yet. Giovanni had no real desire to kill him even though he’d be willing. Hell, he has the potential to be an ally.

Grym was still there, disapproving of the whole ordeal. Strangely, Giovanni didn’t think her an enemy either, despite the fact that she likely wanted to put a bullet through his skull. ”You will not interfere.” He turned to the gopniks. ”And neither will you.” They didn’t seem happy about that.

It was said without emotion and the timbre of command. It was a simple matter of fact statement. Even now he felt his power coursing through him, ready to intervene should they try. He allowed some of his power to come out, and a crackling electric sound came from blue lightning that danced amongst his fingers.

”Lets light the match,” Giovanni said, beginning his approach towards Zholdin.

[Grym]

She hated this. Hated that she was alone and surrounded by channelers. She preferred wolves.

She crossed her arms and found a place on the perimeter. “Dante” ordered her about as if he pointed a finger and told a dog to stay, but she only stared back with that look of disapproval that said he’d pay for this later.

[Zholdin Gregorovich]

The blue current danced and hissed around his fingers, casting flickering light across the room. Gasps rose from the men. Chairs scraped again, but this time no one stood. No one dared. Eyes darted to Zholdin. He felt the room watching him, waiting for orders. And for a split second, Zholdin flinched. It was instinct, survival. Like an animal cornered.  He didn’t let it show for long.

Zholdin squared his shoulders. His jaw tightened. His eyes were cool as vodka. He opened his stance. He didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do. What it would feel like. If he even could.

[Giovanni]

More disapproval from Grym, uncertainty from the gangsters, nervous anticipation from Zholdin.

It was delectable.

Giovanni, or Dante rather (he should think of himself in those terms), was uncertain if this would work. He wasn't a teacher. He was a doer. Still Dante could probably cause his ability to spark. With some basic words, he could probably guide Zholdin through seizing the power. Dante smirked as he felt the static in his hands and began to weave the energy into a ball of electric energy.

As he did, Dante wove weaves of air around the gopniks, Zholdin included. He tightened it them, he could see in the corner of his eyes Zholdin's people beginning to squirm. With Zholdin, he lifted slightly, not enough to bring him off the ground, but enough that only his toes could touch. Grym he left free. He knew what she would do. "No fear - reach in - find the dark energy within you - search for it - find it. It's a raging inferno. Force it to submit to your will. It's yours. You spit in the face of a dreykan. The power is yours."

As he spoke he moved the ball of electricity closer to Zholdin. "Defend yourself. Seize it and defend yourself."

[Zholdin Gregorovich]

Invisible threads tightened around him. Around his men. Zholdin could see Mikov shifting in place, eyes flicking with sudden unease. Limon tried to take a step and couldn’t. Everyone was caught in some unseen snare. But Zholdin... he was lifted. Just slightly. Toes brushing the mat. A fraction off the floor, but it made his blood spike.

His fists clenched. Muscles strained. Rage boiled behind his teeth. Dante’s instructions echoed in his brain.

Zholdin tried. He reached inward, toward some imagined core. Toward rage, pride, will. He imagined spitting in the dreyken's face all over again, daring it to bite. Nothing. He imagined spitting in Dante's face now. The arrogance, the smirk, the condescension. Still nothing. His teeth bared.

A low sound crawled out of his throat. A growl, deep and feral. The sound of a man caged one inch too long. Zholdin snarled, eyes burning holes through Dante. "Come on... come on…”

But no flame came. No lightning. No power surged through his veins. Only fury.

"You said it's mine,” he hissed. "Where the fuck is it, then?!”

He twisted against the hold. Fought it with every ounce of muscle. The pressure didn’t relent. His men watched, helpless. But he could sense shifting eyes. Their doubt.

[Giovanni]

Giovanni almost snarled, perhaps Gregorovich was a nobody. It was really no skin of his teeth if the man couldn't channel, but damn, he'd be a good one. The thought of this man able to unleash the god powers was enough to make Giovanni want to keep trying. But there was nothing there - no show of power, no feeling of threat from him. There was only his incessant whining.

Christ...shut the fuck up. he thought but didn't verbalize it. Giovanni though of stuffing a gag of air in his mouth, but thought better of it. No reason to antagonize the man farther than he already was, or farther than he was about to do.

Giovanni had considered different options to get him to use his power. The first had been to threaten the man himself. Force the man to defend himself. That wasn't working, but Giovanni had another idea. Zholdin had shown care for his crew. He had made the med staff check on them first. If he wouldn't find it defending himself, maybe he would find it defending one of his crew. It was one of the reasons he had ensnared them as well.

Giovanni had hoped his first plan would work. Zholdin was still an unknown and he wasn't sure how he'd take the whole situation after. If it turned out he could channel, Zholdin might see if for the altruistic reason Giovanni was doing it. He might not though. Giovanni had started his life as a channeler on the run from the Atharim. You didn't do that without gaining a healthy dose of paranoia.

He dismissed the ball of electricity in front of Zholdin, and began to pull on one of his crew members, moving him closer. The man had tried to walk in his bonds. Giovanni thought his name was Limon, but he wasn't sure. It didn't matter. The man said something - probably some expletive in Russian as he felt himself being moved away from the group. Then Giovanni summoned the ball of electricity again, this time on its way towards Zholdin's subordinate.