05-13-2020, 12:34 AM
The theatrics made Zhenya smile. She presumed they were supposed to, but the curiosity and rapture were both genuine, perhaps swayed by the strange object itself or simply for the hypnotism of the movement. Realisation did not take long to dawn once the boar left his hands and hung pendulous in the air, and her expression drew thoughtful rather than surprised when she understood what he was. Something of his phrasing shivered a little in her bones; his determination on the discovery of truth. She couldn’t say why. She turned her eyes on Ephraim afterwards, though the words were directed at Seven.
“I suspect he will insist it is still too early in the evening for such meaningful talk.” A teasing brow rose, and if she was still playful in her manner, it was also the first suggestion she had any sternness in her. Now that you have me sounded like it might be leverage, and she knew Ephraim well enough to suspect him before she offered him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps her tendencies erred towards a natural protectiveness. Perhaps she just did not like the inference. Seven was practically a stranger after all. She told herself it was simply her own curiosity to also hear the answer.
Ephraim roused, apparently bored by the talk of ancient artifacts. He had clearly known Seven was a channeler, for nothing approaching awe touched his expression. The twitch of his smile was small as he looked to the other man, though it was to Zhenya he shrugged. He sat forward a little, looking at Seven as he contemplated his drink, and grinned a devil’s grin. “Just supposing, Seven, or are you asking?”
“I am asking,” Zhenya interrupted. The words were not spoken forcefully, but they nonetheless expected his attention. She laughed. “For goodness sake, Eph, stop being coy.”
Ephraim suppressed his amusement; enjoying the chase no doubt, and he still made them pause while fresh bottles of vodka and ice were delivered to the table. Zhenya rescued the tiny boar from its perch and the river of icemelt trickling towards it from the buckets. For now she set it on the arm of her chair.
“Three, four hundred years ago, you’d be happily burned at the stake for that,” he said pleasantly to Seven, one idle finger twirling in the air in a facsimile of the boar’s flight. “Even six months ago, you wouldn’t think to do it in public. Now we live in a world where it’s normal, or becoming so. But what if you weren’t using it for cute little tricks, Seven?” He leaned to pour himself another drink, allowing the thought to permeate.
“Right now they don’t even have a name for it. The “feeling” or --” he looked at Zhenya then, rotated his hand to fill the blank space. She did not intrude with her own suggestion. “But we’ve already seen its capabilities. Jeddah. Theo Andlain. Now give it time, learning, research, understanding. What destruction might be wrought once more people grow to the skill of someone like Ascendancy? Five years from now. Ten.” He sat back, vodka in hand. “So tell me, Zhenya Disir of Pervaya Liniya Security, how you will protect people from that in this new era?” He grinned at her, running a finger over his lips.
“We’re a private security firm, not the CDPS,” she said. They’d argued this point several times before in response to previous proposals. Not that she disputed the concern, but he offered no viable solutions either. Not for her. She already employed the very best, and utilised available technology to assist her operators. “And you’re talking about an infinitesimal percentage of the population.”
“I am. But I’m also talking about opportunity. So indulge me, the both of you.” He lounged, comfortable holding court; satisfied with the rich play of his own voice. “You’ve both talents I lack, and I’ve resources, charm, and good looks. What might we build with that?”
“I suspect he will insist it is still too early in the evening for such meaningful talk.” A teasing brow rose, and if she was still playful in her manner, it was also the first suggestion she had any sternness in her. Now that you have me sounded like it might be leverage, and she knew Ephraim well enough to suspect him before she offered him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps her tendencies erred towards a natural protectiveness. Perhaps she just did not like the inference. Seven was practically a stranger after all. She told herself it was simply her own curiosity to also hear the answer.
Ephraim roused, apparently bored by the talk of ancient artifacts. He had clearly known Seven was a channeler, for nothing approaching awe touched his expression. The twitch of his smile was small as he looked to the other man, though it was to Zhenya he shrugged. He sat forward a little, looking at Seven as he contemplated his drink, and grinned a devil’s grin. “Just supposing, Seven, or are you asking?”
“I am asking,” Zhenya interrupted. The words were not spoken forcefully, but they nonetheless expected his attention. She laughed. “For goodness sake, Eph, stop being coy.”
Ephraim suppressed his amusement; enjoying the chase no doubt, and he still made them pause while fresh bottles of vodka and ice were delivered to the table. Zhenya rescued the tiny boar from its perch and the river of icemelt trickling towards it from the buckets. For now she set it on the arm of her chair.
“Three, four hundred years ago, you’d be happily burned at the stake for that,” he said pleasantly to Seven, one idle finger twirling in the air in a facsimile of the boar’s flight. “Even six months ago, you wouldn’t think to do it in public. Now we live in a world where it’s normal, or becoming so. But what if you weren’t using it for cute little tricks, Seven?” He leaned to pour himself another drink, allowing the thought to permeate.
“Right now they don’t even have a name for it. The “feeling” or --” he looked at Zhenya then, rotated his hand to fill the blank space. She did not intrude with her own suggestion. “But we’ve already seen its capabilities. Jeddah. Theo Andlain. Now give it time, learning, research, understanding. What destruction might be wrought once more people grow to the skill of someone like Ascendancy? Five years from now. Ten.” He sat back, vodka in hand. “So tell me, Zhenya Disir of Pervaya Liniya Security, how you will protect people from that in this new era?” He grinned at her, running a finger over his lips.
“We’re a private security firm, not the CDPS,” she said. They’d argued this point several times before in response to previous proposals. Not that she disputed the concern, but he offered no viable solutions either. Not for her. She already employed the very best, and utilised available technology to assist her operators. “And you’re talking about an infinitesimal percentage of the population.”
“I am. But I’m also talking about opportunity. So indulge me, the both of you.” He lounged, comfortable holding court; satisfied with the rich play of his own voice. “You’ve both talents I lack, and I’ve resources, charm, and good looks. What might we build with that?”