06-28-2014, 05:17 PM
Marcus sat at the table and watched as Ascendancy walked to the podium, power incarnate, and began speaking. The man had a way with words, no doubt about that. Having studied the great orators of history, from the written speeches of Caesar and Cicero, to the recordings of Churchill and Clinton, he had made it a point to understand the tools one used, the how and when of them. Though he no longer had any doubt the man was the real deal, he was keen to compare Ascendancy's abilities to the others. And he was impressed. The man's delivery conveyed information on subconscious levels. Marcus smiled on the casual words "my...home"
, the way the pause served to emphasize that this great palace, the home of Czars and a place of power for centuries, was his- as was the empire he controlled.
He used the word 'we' often. "We shored up her weakness, destroyed those that would steal from her, and brought her security and prosperity."
It was him who had spearheaded the work, had imposed the order and discipline that made this great nation. But...he couldn't have done it alone and the audience knew it, since some of them had been involved in that very work. He honors them. And with that honor, continues to cement their loyalty. Praise was a powerful tool, when used properly. His words made them feel part of this, part of the greatness of the nation.
The man was not a fool. These were ambitious people. One could not be in this room without hunger. But Ascendancy's praise would blunt their angling against him, even as it increased their jockeying for position with each other. Though the man would not see it, Malik nodded to him in respect. He was possessed of a great power.
In more ways than one. Malik could feel the power emanating from him at this close distance. Having been in proximity to Andre and then Pyotr when they had seized the Force, Marcus knew the feeling of menace that usually put him in a defensive state of mind. It was the same one he'd known as a child when one of the foster-siblings had loomed over his small frame, made him feel the need to fight back. But this time, this time it was different. Because Ascendancy had the power and Malik wanted it.
Malik had seen the way Ascendancy used a weave very similar to the conduit he'd created for listening and speaking. But this weave amplified his words subtly. It was that touch of fire, energy. Even as he listened, he filed that away. The fire put the air molecules into a higher energy state, so that their vibrations were greater, the sound louder. People would feel that sound beat down on them, emphasizing his point...and then, the man would speak softly, drawing the listener's in. It was pure brilliance.
When Ascendancy introduced Michael Vellas, Malik felt a twinge of suspicion. Clearly, the man was not to be ignored, having performed so valiently in the field. But Malik suspected it was more than military skill that had stood him in such high standing here. One man does not save a battalion that often. A pity he hadn't been looking to notice whether the man reacted to Ascendancy's weaves. This might be a Force user, perhaps the very one the rumors are about. Malik pressed his lips together for a moment. He'd have to do his own test to see.
He was caught up in that thought and so didn't realize that Ascendancy was bringing the subject to himself.
"....Sigma program considers tens-of-thousands of applicants and from the finalist, I hand-select only one."
Marcus sat up, straightened his jacket in preparation. His heart beat faster in anticipation. "Please join me in welcoming, Marcus DuBois."
At that, there were claps and Marcus stood up- a delicious thrill stealing through him- looking out at the audience with a pleasant smile on his face. The sea of people looked back at him, faces he knew dotting the crowd. Of those he didn't- which were most- he saw curiosity and question. Ascendancy made a joke regarding his heritage and the crowd laughed. Wise, to dispel the questions or suspicion by bringing the issue out into the open. More than that, he tied himself to the issue of heritage. It was a gracious thing for him to do and Marcus appreciated it. As he sat down, the survey of the crowd stayed in his mind. That feeling of elation remained as well, the feeling of all eyes on him. He liked that. A lot. Suspicion and curiosity would do for now. One day it would be other things.
Ascendancy was winding down, deftly using humor to lighten the mood- and then abruptly plunging back down into serious territory. Well done, he thought. The light accentuates the darkness; the salt makes the sweet sweeter. Because this was his big buildup, the thing he'd been driving at this whole time. The CCD and the Ascendancy were the future, they would be as eternal as Rome or Egypt. Marcus felt the pride and hope swelling in his own heart, even as he watched the tools that had put them there. Tools worked, after all.
He wholeheartedly lifted his glass in toast to the Ascendancy and the CCD, feeling that unison with the others in the room. There was no question that he was exactly where he was meant to be.
, the way the pause served to emphasize that this great palace, the home of Czars and a place of power for centuries, was his- as was the empire he controlled.
He used the word 'we' often. "We shored up her weakness, destroyed those that would steal from her, and brought her security and prosperity."
It was him who had spearheaded the work, had imposed the order and discipline that made this great nation. But...he couldn't have done it alone and the audience knew it, since some of them had been involved in that very work. He honors them. And with that honor, continues to cement their loyalty. Praise was a powerful tool, when used properly. His words made them feel part of this, part of the greatness of the nation.
The man was not a fool. These were ambitious people. One could not be in this room without hunger. But Ascendancy's praise would blunt their angling against him, even as it increased their jockeying for position with each other. Though the man would not see it, Malik nodded to him in respect. He was possessed of a great power.
In more ways than one. Malik could feel the power emanating from him at this close distance. Having been in proximity to Andre and then Pyotr when they had seized the Force, Marcus knew the feeling of menace that usually put him in a defensive state of mind. It was the same one he'd known as a child when one of the foster-siblings had loomed over his small frame, made him feel the need to fight back. But this time, this time it was different. Because Ascendancy had the power and Malik wanted it.
Malik had seen the way Ascendancy used a weave very similar to the conduit he'd created for listening and speaking. But this weave amplified his words subtly. It was that touch of fire, energy. Even as he listened, he filed that away. The fire put the air molecules into a higher energy state, so that their vibrations were greater, the sound louder. People would feel that sound beat down on them, emphasizing his point...and then, the man would speak softly, drawing the listener's in. It was pure brilliance.
When Ascendancy introduced Michael Vellas, Malik felt a twinge of suspicion. Clearly, the man was not to be ignored, having performed so valiently in the field. But Malik suspected it was more than military skill that had stood him in such high standing here. One man does not save a battalion that often. A pity he hadn't been looking to notice whether the man reacted to Ascendancy's weaves. This might be a Force user, perhaps the very one the rumors are about. Malik pressed his lips together for a moment. He'd have to do his own test to see.
He was caught up in that thought and so didn't realize that Ascendancy was bringing the subject to himself.
"....Sigma program considers tens-of-thousands of applicants and from the finalist, I hand-select only one."
Marcus sat up, straightened his jacket in preparation. His heart beat faster in anticipation. "Please join me in welcoming, Marcus DuBois."
At that, there were claps and Marcus stood up- a delicious thrill stealing through him- looking out at the audience with a pleasant smile on his face. The sea of people looked back at him, faces he knew dotting the crowd. Of those he didn't- which were most- he saw curiosity and question. Ascendancy made a joke regarding his heritage and the crowd laughed. Wise, to dispel the questions or suspicion by bringing the issue out into the open. More than that, he tied himself to the issue of heritage. It was a gracious thing for him to do and Marcus appreciated it. As he sat down, the survey of the crowd stayed in his mind. That feeling of elation remained as well, the feeling of all eyes on him. He liked that. A lot. Suspicion and curiosity would do for now. One day it would be other things.
Ascendancy was winding down, deftly using humor to lighten the mood- and then abruptly plunging back down into serious territory. Well done, he thought. The light accentuates the darkness; the salt makes the sweet sweeter. Because this was his big buildup, the thing he'd been driving at this whole time. The CCD and the Ascendancy were the future, they would be as eternal as Rome or Egypt. Marcus felt the pride and hope swelling in his own heart, even as he watched the tools that had put them there. Tools worked, after all.
He wholeheartedly lifted his glass in toast to the Ascendancy and the CCD, feeling that unison with the others in the room. There was no question that he was exactly where he was meant to be.