09-20-2016, 12:30 PM
Ivan was mentally tired. It had been a long day. The stuff with Dorian and Cruz. The crowds. Ascendancy's display. And then the meeting. He was just tired. There was a lull, at least. What Ascendancy had done had seemed to put out some of the fires. Too many people were over-awed and had lost their zeal.
Ivan was grateful, despite his misgivings. Ascendancy was not God. A great man. A man to whom he was loyal. But Ivan could not worship him. Still, he was glad of the respitel. He could go home. He needed to work off some of his stress. He headed to the gym in his building and started hitting it. He alternated between sets of running at full sprint and then burpees, followed by box jumps and barbell-thrusters. Sweat poured off him in rivers and his heart thundered in his chest, but his mind was empty and clear and he lost himself to it.
By the end, he felt exhilarated as the rush washed over him, flooding his mind. He felt like he could take on the world. He looked around the gym- it was empty- and he smiled and seized the power, filled himself with it to the brim, and then sent a flow of air to lift the barbell with 4 plates in front of him. He smiled at the sight, could almost imagine the flows as muscles- striated bunches of fibers flexing and stretching- and he pumped the weight, up and down. Of course, those flows were not muscles. They were not getting overworked and injured, requiring they heal up bigger and stronger.
And yet as he used the power to add new plates to each side, increasing to 6 then 8- always making sure that his weaves lifted the entire length of it, not just the center, to keep the bar from bending-, where he felt the control of the threads come from him- the center of his body? His mind? His forehead? It was hard to say- anyway, it felt like it was straining. Like where the muscle heads inserted into the bone. It felt like that was getting a workout. He liked the imagery. He could feel himself getting tired, now. The power raged at him and it took more effort to keep it under control.
Enough for now. Idly he wondered if there would be an equivalent of muscle fatigue tomorrow. That would royally suck. He'd do it again though. And practice other things as well. He started to put the plates away with the power when he felt, off in the distance, the feel of power like he had never imagined. It was more than what he'd felt in the square- it had to be. It was far away, in the direction of Red Square. But there was something different about it. Like a turned milk or something. The power twisted. He felt his stomach turn, as if he'd pushed himself to work out on a completely empty stomach and had hit the wall. His face flushed hot and cold and his stomach cramped. He breathed in deeply at a regular pace, to keep himself from vomiting, his normal way to deal with that.
He wasn't sure how long it went on and then, it was gone. His head cleared a little of the dizziness and he tried to run to the lockers to change. Ok, not cleared enough. He had to walk. But by the time he entered them, he already felt better. Something had happened. He was drenched in sweat and his clothes were soaking. He threw himself into a shower and was out in 2 minutes, dressed in 2 and was at the door, his wallet in his hand already calling the station even as he got to his car.
A quick connection with dispatch got him the Cap to let him know that he felt something happen in the direction of Red Square and he was on his way. By the time he arrived, though, he could still feel the residues of that power. It was not Red Square. It was the Kremlin, or below it. There were already response teams around and he saw ambulances pull away, flanked by police cars. It had to have been something Ascendancy had done. He had thought the man would have been tired after the display in the Square, the Arch shadowed but still visible against the night. What was he doing? In hiding for decades and now two displays in one day? But why was this different from the first?
Soldiers, police and ZARS maintained a line and the ZARS at least, were not letting anyone through. Ivan flashed his badge and told them he was with Domovoi, but their faces might as well have been stone. What was the man doing, he wondered in frustration.
After waiting for what seemed like forever- night air made his head cold as his hair dried-, he finally decided to go home. There didn't appear to be anything he could do. He started for his car when he noticed a few of the ZAR's he spoke pointing at him to someone else. He paused and looked at them, then decided to walk over.
"Seargent Ivan Sarkozy of Domovoi?"
asked a man whose iron cast face made the others look like clay. Ivan nodded and showed his ID.
"Come with us, please."
It was not a request. Ivan nodded. Well, it was something. You wanted to help.
Once inside, he was met by anther man with thin whispy hair and tired eyes. He looked at his tablet and then at Ivan and took a breath. "Seargent Sarkozy. Motya Graber, assistant to the Under Consul. I don't have time to answer all of your questions. Obviously, something has happened. Suffice it to say, this is a matter of national security. Your name came up in connection with Domovoi- and your stay in another of our facilities."
The emphasis was odd.
Ivan blinked and thought. "You mean the Guardian?"
he said cautiously. He remembered alright. It was where he learned what he was, what he could do. And was where he pledged his allegiance to the Ascendancy. He nodded. This was serious.
"We need you to find and bring in this man."
He touched a button on his tablet and Ivan's wallet chimed. He looked at it in surprise as a face appeared.
"But I saw him. Earlier today, in the Square. Did he do something wrong?"
Ivan had a hard time imagining the Padre hurting someone. In fact, he'd healed Ivan the first time they'd met.
The man shook his head sharply. "You did? No, he didn't do anything wrong. But we need him. Unharmed."
He paused and then look resigned. "I know I said no questions, but you need to know this. The Ascendancy has been hurt. Doctors are working on him, but it's bad. From the registration forms, this Jensen James appears to be able to heal."
He sighed and looked hopeless. "Yesterday, I wouldn't have believed it, despite the Ascendancy's announcement. But today....I don't know. It's a Hail Mary. But the Ascendancy trusts you. Trusted you. He sent you out with training in whatever power you have back before any of this was made public. We don't want this to get out. It can't. So we are trusting you with this. Bring him in. Without scaring him. Last known location from his wallet is with what I sent you."
Ivan reeled from the news. Ascendancy was the empire. If he died...But this was no time for worry. There was a job to do. Ivan would not let his city degenerate into chaos. "I will get him. I know Jensen James. And he can heal. He healed me. He will heal Ascendancy too."
The man seemed to take heart.
Ivan had a job to do. For the city. For the empire.
Edited by Ivan Sarkozy, Sep 20 2016, 12:46 PM.
Ivan was grateful, despite his misgivings. Ascendancy was not God. A great man. A man to whom he was loyal. But Ivan could not worship him. Still, he was glad of the respitel. He could go home. He needed to work off some of his stress. He headed to the gym in his building and started hitting it. He alternated between sets of running at full sprint and then burpees, followed by box jumps and barbell-thrusters. Sweat poured off him in rivers and his heart thundered in his chest, but his mind was empty and clear and he lost himself to it.
By the end, he felt exhilarated as the rush washed over him, flooding his mind. He felt like he could take on the world. He looked around the gym- it was empty- and he smiled and seized the power, filled himself with it to the brim, and then sent a flow of air to lift the barbell with 4 plates in front of him. He smiled at the sight, could almost imagine the flows as muscles- striated bunches of fibers flexing and stretching- and he pumped the weight, up and down. Of course, those flows were not muscles. They were not getting overworked and injured, requiring they heal up bigger and stronger.
And yet as he used the power to add new plates to each side, increasing to 6 then 8- always making sure that his weaves lifted the entire length of it, not just the center, to keep the bar from bending-, where he felt the control of the threads come from him- the center of his body? His mind? His forehead? It was hard to say- anyway, it felt like it was straining. Like where the muscle heads inserted into the bone. It felt like that was getting a workout. He liked the imagery. He could feel himself getting tired, now. The power raged at him and it took more effort to keep it under control.
Enough for now. Idly he wondered if there would be an equivalent of muscle fatigue tomorrow. That would royally suck. He'd do it again though. And practice other things as well. He started to put the plates away with the power when he felt, off in the distance, the feel of power like he had never imagined. It was more than what he'd felt in the square- it had to be. It was far away, in the direction of Red Square. But there was something different about it. Like a turned milk or something. The power twisted. He felt his stomach turn, as if he'd pushed himself to work out on a completely empty stomach and had hit the wall. His face flushed hot and cold and his stomach cramped. He breathed in deeply at a regular pace, to keep himself from vomiting, his normal way to deal with that.
He wasn't sure how long it went on and then, it was gone. His head cleared a little of the dizziness and he tried to run to the lockers to change. Ok, not cleared enough. He had to walk. But by the time he entered them, he already felt better. Something had happened. He was drenched in sweat and his clothes were soaking. He threw himself into a shower and was out in 2 minutes, dressed in 2 and was at the door, his wallet in his hand already calling the station even as he got to his car.
A quick connection with dispatch got him the Cap to let him know that he felt something happen in the direction of Red Square and he was on his way. By the time he arrived, though, he could still feel the residues of that power. It was not Red Square. It was the Kremlin, or below it. There were already response teams around and he saw ambulances pull away, flanked by police cars. It had to have been something Ascendancy had done. He had thought the man would have been tired after the display in the Square, the Arch shadowed but still visible against the night. What was he doing? In hiding for decades and now two displays in one day? But why was this different from the first?
Soldiers, police and ZARS maintained a line and the ZARS at least, were not letting anyone through. Ivan flashed his badge and told them he was with Domovoi, but their faces might as well have been stone. What was the man doing, he wondered in frustration.
After waiting for what seemed like forever- night air made his head cold as his hair dried-, he finally decided to go home. There didn't appear to be anything he could do. He started for his car when he noticed a few of the ZAR's he spoke pointing at him to someone else. He paused and looked at them, then decided to walk over.
"Seargent Ivan Sarkozy of Domovoi?"
asked a man whose iron cast face made the others look like clay. Ivan nodded and showed his ID.
"Come with us, please."
It was not a request. Ivan nodded. Well, it was something. You wanted to help.
Once inside, he was met by anther man with thin whispy hair and tired eyes. He looked at his tablet and then at Ivan and took a breath. "Seargent Sarkozy. Motya Graber, assistant to the Under Consul. I don't have time to answer all of your questions. Obviously, something has happened. Suffice it to say, this is a matter of national security. Your name came up in connection with Domovoi- and your stay in another of our facilities."
The emphasis was odd.
Ivan blinked and thought. "You mean the Guardian?"
he said cautiously. He remembered alright. It was where he learned what he was, what he could do. And was where he pledged his allegiance to the Ascendancy. He nodded. This was serious.
"We need you to find and bring in this man."
He touched a button on his tablet and Ivan's wallet chimed. He looked at it in surprise as a face appeared.
"But I saw him. Earlier today, in the Square. Did he do something wrong?"
Ivan had a hard time imagining the Padre hurting someone. In fact, he'd healed Ivan the first time they'd met.
The man shook his head sharply. "You did? No, he didn't do anything wrong. But we need him. Unharmed."
He paused and then look resigned. "I know I said no questions, but you need to know this. The Ascendancy has been hurt. Doctors are working on him, but it's bad. From the registration forms, this Jensen James appears to be able to heal."
He sighed and looked hopeless. "Yesterday, I wouldn't have believed it, despite the Ascendancy's announcement. But today....I don't know. It's a Hail Mary. But the Ascendancy trusts you. Trusted you. He sent you out with training in whatever power you have back before any of this was made public. We don't want this to get out. It can't. So we are trusting you with this. Bring him in. Without scaring him. Last known location from his wallet is with what I sent you."
Ivan reeled from the news. Ascendancy was the empire. If he died...But this was no time for worry. There was a job to do. Ivan would not let his city degenerate into chaos. "I will get him. I know Jensen James. And he can heal. He healed me. He will heal Ascendancy too."
The man seemed to take heart.
Ivan had a job to do. For the city. For the empire.
Edited by Ivan Sarkozy, Sep 20 2016, 12:46 PM.