09-02-2013, 03:54 PM
Oriena's comment briefly twisted Jax's attention back her way. Then something strange happened.
Goosebumps. Not the tormenting trail of ice down flushed skin. And not the pain of jumping in frozen lakes. But from something tameless. A feral chill that seeped to his bones and swapped out the oblivion of the night with a warning that something was different. Wrong? A second later, his feet were kicked out from under him and his heels landed hard on the ground. Funny thing was, he'd been sitting.
Whatever was going down, Jaxen sat to attention and looked around. Only to land a suspicious stare on his coyly strung companion. Oriena glowed with mirth. The cat flipping its tail at the mouse to have crossed its path. Then again, Jaxen was too strung out himself to dismiss coincidence so casually. "You're--"
he started, but quickly cut himself off, expression drawn to grim surprise.
He felt it loud and clear. Ominous and imposing. And seemed to sweep out of nowhere yet exploded from wall to wall. Resolved to find the source, Jax twisted around, studying the faces in the room, seeking -- well, Tony or Michael -- honestly. Though something told him they weren't to blame.
His chest thrummed with anticipation. Then suddenly, the sensation expanded into something visible, and Jaxen stared at what flickered through the air with sheer wonder.
From sitting straight and attentive, he pushed to stand, the lean shade of a puppet-master seeking the strings of a colleague. His study followed the source of it back to one man at the bar. The pup. Definitely not Mickey or Tony.
"Interesting,"
he spoke to himself with a twisted smile. After a moment of contemplation, he waved the man over.
Jaxen's expression glimmered with life anew, having found a competitor unlike that of what he'd known with Oriena. The fury and fire in the back of his mind curled a tempting finger that he snatch it up, but for now, Jaxen was the one holding the cards, and he wasn't ready to show his hand. Yet.
Goosebumps. Not the tormenting trail of ice down flushed skin. And not the pain of jumping in frozen lakes. But from something tameless. A feral chill that seeped to his bones and swapped out the oblivion of the night with a warning that something was different. Wrong? A second later, his feet were kicked out from under him and his heels landed hard on the ground. Funny thing was, he'd been sitting.
Whatever was going down, Jaxen sat to attention and looked around. Only to land a suspicious stare on his coyly strung companion. Oriena glowed with mirth. The cat flipping its tail at the mouse to have crossed its path. Then again, Jaxen was too strung out himself to dismiss coincidence so casually. "You're--"
he started, but quickly cut himself off, expression drawn to grim surprise.
He felt it loud and clear. Ominous and imposing. And seemed to sweep out of nowhere yet exploded from wall to wall. Resolved to find the source, Jax twisted around, studying the faces in the room, seeking -- well, Tony or Michael -- honestly. Though something told him they weren't to blame.
His chest thrummed with anticipation. Then suddenly, the sensation expanded into something visible, and Jaxen stared at what flickered through the air with sheer wonder.
From sitting straight and attentive, he pushed to stand, the lean shade of a puppet-master seeking the strings of a colleague. His study followed the source of it back to one man at the bar. The pup. Definitely not Mickey or Tony.
"Interesting,"
he spoke to himself with a twisted smile. After a moment of contemplation, he waved the man over.
Jaxen's expression glimmered with life anew, having found a competitor unlike that of what he'd known with Oriena. The fury and fire in the back of his mind curled a tempting finger that he snatch it up, but for now, Jaxen was the one holding the cards, and he wasn't ready to show his hand. Yet.