06-04-2018, 07:56 PM
She was so beautiful. That dress. Those shoulders. Her lips. Her eyes. He drank in the sight of her like a man dying in the desert. It wasn't like he didn't notice before. In Masiaka, a layer of dust, blood and guilt draped her like a shroud as obsidian as the smoke behind her. Those pale eyes had been the first thing that stole the entirety of his attention. She was beautiful then. Seeing her safe and whole, relief mixed with wonder. Like a hook to the gut; but decidedly less painful.
It was almost like she was another person, now. Pale blue wrapped her like the whisper. He would hesitate to even stroke the dress for fear the roughness of his hands would tear the delicate artistry.
She recognized him. Their gazes were fixed. She barely had the time to process what happened in the tunnels. But despite the horrors endured, she was pure as marble. Like the ghosts of the past haunted not a thing at all. So many ghosts she had, too. Jay's hope dropped like a weight when she broke their fleeting moment of connection. He blinked in the sudden chill. Was warmth ever there at all?
And he knew why. Ascendancy said she asked after him; but he didn't explain the context of those questions. The last time they saw one another, he admitted to murder and walked into the firing squad to make amends.
The color drained from his face. She was afraid. Horrified, probably. He was a killer. Those pale eyes beheld the evidence in Africa. He cut his way through people without a second thought. He abandoned the innocent to their fate at the refinery without a moment's hesitation. A grunt obeying blind orders. One whose allegiance shifted swiftly. From the US to a mercenary on the payroll of the highest bidder until the pendulum of attachment swung as far as possible. He wore the mark of Dominance I. The Ascendancy's property as surely as if the chain across his chest shackled him to the enemy.
He squeezed his eyes shut, vaguely aware of Samuel's voice directing him elsewhere. He would have no recognition of Natalie. Just another pretty girl that caught the attention. The crunch of glass underfoot flooded his ears. The dead technician contorted at his feet. He swore his loyalty to Ascendancy and in return the man's promise was upheld. He was being taught control. This power - his power - would not harm the innocent again.
He swallowed and pushed his gaze toward Samuel, his dark eyes an anchor to duty in the stormy seas of doubt. "Where?"
He asked. Sam had been nudging him toward a power-user that was drawing the attention of more than a few of the Nine.
One last glimpse of the angel he didn't deserve to behold and turned to follow Sam.
He felt the power, just a trickle, soon enough. His ear-piece buzzed with conversation about him and a few others. There was some confusion as to the man's status in the Kremlin as a person of interest. Yet he was gained admittance to the ball, and Ascendancy was the only one with the authority to grant such an exception. A heads up about the man would have been nice.
The crowd parted just enough, though Jay noticed that their path seemed to open up on its own. Like the people were keeping a wary arm's length from the Nine on instinct.
The blinking continued when he recognized the profile. The jaw, the hair. The same man, though the tuxedo was properly fit, it didn't suit him at all. He shook his head, "He's not one to worry over. I'll vouch for him."
He turned quickly and walked away alone, leaving Samuel in his wake. The power curled out like invisible tendrils, snatched the closest glass of whatever was alcoholic, and he drank it as quickly as he could, but downing it was a disappointment. Surviving tonight was going to require something stronger than champagne.
Edited by Jay Carpenter, Jun 4 2018, 10:12 PM.
It was almost like she was another person, now. Pale blue wrapped her like the whisper. He would hesitate to even stroke the dress for fear the roughness of his hands would tear the delicate artistry.
She recognized him. Their gazes were fixed. She barely had the time to process what happened in the tunnels. But despite the horrors endured, she was pure as marble. Like the ghosts of the past haunted not a thing at all. So many ghosts she had, too. Jay's hope dropped like a weight when she broke their fleeting moment of connection. He blinked in the sudden chill. Was warmth ever there at all?
And he knew why. Ascendancy said she asked after him; but he didn't explain the context of those questions. The last time they saw one another, he admitted to murder and walked into the firing squad to make amends.
The color drained from his face. She was afraid. Horrified, probably. He was a killer. Those pale eyes beheld the evidence in Africa. He cut his way through people without a second thought. He abandoned the innocent to their fate at the refinery without a moment's hesitation. A grunt obeying blind orders. One whose allegiance shifted swiftly. From the US to a mercenary on the payroll of the highest bidder until the pendulum of attachment swung as far as possible. He wore the mark of Dominance I. The Ascendancy's property as surely as if the chain across his chest shackled him to the enemy.
He squeezed his eyes shut, vaguely aware of Samuel's voice directing him elsewhere. He would have no recognition of Natalie. Just another pretty girl that caught the attention. The crunch of glass underfoot flooded his ears. The dead technician contorted at his feet. He swore his loyalty to Ascendancy and in return the man's promise was upheld. He was being taught control. This power - his power - would not harm the innocent again.
He swallowed and pushed his gaze toward Samuel, his dark eyes an anchor to duty in the stormy seas of doubt. "Where?"
He asked. Sam had been nudging him toward a power-user that was drawing the attention of more than a few of the Nine.
One last glimpse of the angel he didn't deserve to behold and turned to follow Sam.
He felt the power, just a trickle, soon enough. His ear-piece buzzed with conversation about him and a few others. There was some confusion as to the man's status in the Kremlin as a person of interest. Yet he was gained admittance to the ball, and Ascendancy was the only one with the authority to grant such an exception. A heads up about the man would have been nice.
The crowd parted just enough, though Jay noticed that their path seemed to open up on its own. Like the people were keeping a wary arm's length from the Nine on instinct.
The blinking continued when he recognized the profile. The jaw, the hair. The same man, though the tuxedo was properly fit, it didn't suit him at all. He shook his head, "He's not one to worry over. I'll vouch for him."
He turned quickly and walked away alone, leaving Samuel in his wake. The power curled out like invisible tendrils, snatched the closest glass of whatever was alcoholic, and he drank it as quickly as he could, but downing it was a disappointment. Surviving tonight was going to require something stronger than champagne.
Edited by Jay Carpenter, Jun 4 2018, 10:12 PM.
Only darkness shows you the light.