02-06-2018, 09:14 PM
He winced when Doctor Weston peeled the socks from his feet. A couple chunks of glass clattered to the floor, but Jay pushed the pain aside and focused on not shaking all over. He itched the back of his neck, scrubbed a hand through his hair, and wished he had a shirt on just to tug on the sleeves. Instead, he let his hands fall to his lap and studied the top of Weston's head.
How did he feel? That was a loaded question. Best not to think too hard on the answer. "I feel weird,"
he finally admitted. He was about to seize the light back into his grasp when a darkness yanked his gaze into the far distance.
A menace grew that dwarfed what he'd sensed from Marcus earlier. Blue eyes darted to the man himself like he may have some explanation, but Jay didn't really need to ask. It had to be him.
He pulled his feet from Doctor Weston and stood when the Ascendancy's outline filled the doorway. He suddenly wished he was wearing more clothes, as the man seemed to stare straight into his soul.
This was the Ascendancy. He never thought he would find himself standing in front of Nikolai Brandon. Even the greenest of Recruits, starry eyed with patriotism and dazed with the horror of basic training, never imagined actually standing in front of Nikolai Brandon.
He was shorter than he thought he'd be. Not that the guy was short. He seemed more real than Jay imagined, too. His skin was smooth with youth, but not brushed perfect like on screen. His suit was black like the abyss, but just cloth. There was a magic around Brandon that built up his image that Jay found to be more correct than he was comfortable admitting.
Now this man literally held his life in his hands. The immensity of power that radiated from him made it hard to breathe. The very idea of seizing the power while in his presence was repulsive, like the sense would make him throw up from being overwhelmed.
Jay held that dreadful gaze unwaveringly when Ascendancy addressed him directly. He half wondered if he should kneel or bow or make the sign of the cross over his chest. At that moment, he was acutely aware of being half dressed and slashed up with red lines.
Ascendancy's command cut to the core, though. Ghosts danced on the edges of his vision, and Jay's jaw clenched tight. Fleeting defenses skipped across the edges of his thoughts like rocks on a pond. He wanted to tell Brandon that none of this was his doing. He wanted to say that people's lives were being wasted. That the cost for what he wanted was too high.
Instead, none of these things passed his lips. His throat shut, dry, and he found himself saying words he did not imagine to ever hear his own voice utter. He was swept up into a storm over which he had no control.
"I am your man, Ascendancy. Teach me this control, and I will be your man to the end of my days."
What was worse than saying it though--
He really meant it.
How did he feel? That was a loaded question. Best not to think too hard on the answer. "I feel weird,"
he finally admitted. He was about to seize the light back into his grasp when a darkness yanked his gaze into the far distance.
A menace grew that dwarfed what he'd sensed from Marcus earlier. Blue eyes darted to the man himself like he may have some explanation, but Jay didn't really need to ask. It had to be him.
He pulled his feet from Doctor Weston and stood when the Ascendancy's outline filled the doorway. He suddenly wished he was wearing more clothes, as the man seemed to stare straight into his soul.
This was the Ascendancy. He never thought he would find himself standing in front of Nikolai Brandon. Even the greenest of Recruits, starry eyed with patriotism and dazed with the horror of basic training, never imagined actually standing in front of Nikolai Brandon.
He was shorter than he thought he'd be. Not that the guy was short. He seemed more real than Jay imagined, too. His skin was smooth with youth, but not brushed perfect like on screen. His suit was black like the abyss, but just cloth. There was a magic around Brandon that built up his image that Jay found to be more correct than he was comfortable admitting.
Now this man literally held his life in his hands. The immensity of power that radiated from him made it hard to breathe. The very idea of seizing the power while in his presence was repulsive, like the sense would make him throw up from being overwhelmed.
Jay held that dreadful gaze unwaveringly when Ascendancy addressed him directly. He half wondered if he should kneel or bow or make the sign of the cross over his chest. At that moment, he was acutely aware of being half dressed and slashed up with red lines.
Ascendancy's command cut to the core, though. Ghosts danced on the edges of his vision, and Jay's jaw clenched tight. Fleeting defenses skipped across the edges of his thoughts like rocks on a pond. He wanted to tell Brandon that none of this was his doing. He wanted to say that people's lives were being wasted. That the cost for what he wanted was too high.
Instead, none of these things passed his lips. His throat shut, dry, and he found himself saying words he did not imagine to ever hear his own voice utter. He was swept up into a storm over which he had no control.
"I am your man, Ascendancy. Teach me this control, and I will be your man to the end of my days."
What was worse than saying it though--
He really meant it.
Only darkness shows you the light.