07-01-2014, 07:37 PM
At his left conversations drifted back to Mexico. The wine was loosening the Secretariat's tongue. Nikolai didn't fool himself into thinking the man was fully forthcoming in his relays, but friendship and the prospect of a common goal, namely his return to the upper echelons of Mexico City tended to make a man more open-minded.
Across from him, Scion and his future partner, likely in the boardroom as in the bedroom, a woman named Kade, were discussing their mutual love of vodka and cigars. Their flirtation was so opaque, Nikolai had to steel himself from rolling his eyes. Kade was no damsel, here. It was Scion who was likely to get screwed when she was finished with him. She preferred to trap her competition elegantly as a spider caught a wine glass. If Scion were wise, he'd pawn her off to another Moscow billionaire. The question that Nikolai would be watching to see, however, was whom Scion Marveet assigned the role of chief rival. His choice in destination, handing off a poisoned dart to the rival alpha male, would be quite enlightening. Rumors were that Scion might take Valentin's place when the Privilege retired. Nikolai hid his smile behind a sip of water. There was a reason Scion was at his table tonight: to fan the flames of those rumors.
Nikolai himself was drawn into talks with General of the Army Borodin and the Justice while subjects drifted from cartels and Mexico to vodka and contracts, but at his right, a far more mundane topic vollied back and forth.
Michael drew upon an expanse of power that Nikolai was forced to take notice, but his acknowledgement of the man's powers drew no more acknowledgement than the way Pyotr shifted back and forth at his post.
Nikolai did not watch them. Truthfully he was disinterested in Michael's method of interrogation. He clearly suspected the source of the flash was the new Sigma, and perhaps he was. Why else would the taciturn commander deign to bother with an intern? Following the explicit discussion upstairs, the idea of Michael engaged in smalltalk was laughable.
Nikolai soon ceased to distract himself with such thoughts, and turned the enormity of his attention back to the delicacies at hand. By the time dessert was placed, Nikolai's orchestrations promised him an assembly of government cast-offs eager to return to power. What's more, they were fully capable of governing, but as demonstrated by Scion's stories, lacked the means to enforce such authority.
To some at the table, perhaps it seemed Nikolai was too interested in Mexico. He was, no doubt, as he was interested in every second-world order that remained, but the volcanic-tension surging within that state would not be the next collection to his Custody. Like he had twenty-five years ago, he needed the volcano to erupt. From afar he could orchestrate small cracks, planted t the seams of each and every powerhouse in the country until the glass house collapsed upon itself. Fortunately for this foreigner, Nikolai did not intend to be the one to plant the next flag on the rubble. For now, the Ascendancy's aims were northward.
Dinner wrapped up and with it, Nikolai once more ascended the podium to deliver his thanks and wishes for a happy Christmas. He caught the eye of the Consul of Communications when he did. The man had urged him to abandon the religion-specific holdiay in favor of a broader term. To which Nikolai finally told him that if anyone did not wish to attend the Kremlin's Christmas dinner, they were very much allowed to decline the invitation. Nikolai was not a particularly religious man despite the service he would attend Christmas morning, but political correction for the sake of wounded feeligs was a weakness he would not accomodate.
As the room emptied, there were many goodbyes to be shared. This was the capstone night for the Foreign Press Corps, for instance. With Nicholas Trano absent, Nikolai had little specific interest in greeting any single member. However he made the effort to express his gratitude and welcome their insights in the future. The Custody press corps rushed out to make good on their stories for the night. He expected the first, formal interpretation of the night's success to be featured within the hour. Viktor had already mentioned glowing returns from the minute-by-minute social propogandas at work. There were others he intended to see before the night concluded, and as he did, such was when he took note of the tall, dark Sigma. Nikolai watched him briefly. In the middle of second course, Nik allowed his powers to return to the universe from whence they came. He'd not glanced at Marcus when the presence suddenly disappeared, but he trusted Michael to have noted any reaction, if there was one.
Two Barrier agents accompanied him out of the ballroom itself. There was the long, opulent walk to make down the length of adjoining ballroom of St. Alexander hall. The brightness of the chandeliers themselves seemed to sting his eyes, and briefly, Nik yearned for the cool, closeted darkness of his basement residence.
He stopped the agents as they turned toward the Grand Staircase. They spun, and seemingly in an instant, Nikolai and his escorts disappeared in favor of another way to the Grand Palace's upper levels. The Grand Staircase, with its red center carpet and gilded artwork lining the path, would be a fitting departure for the Ascendancy: as it was that the Hall of Saint Andrei was once the throne room of the Imperial Palace. The stage upon which the Ascendancy spoke positioned before the historical thrones themselves.
But he had other purposes. "Find out where the Sigma is,"
he spoke to the second of the two agents.
The three of them disappeared along the opposite wing of the Palace. Through the room of Chevalier's Guard, the heavy guard regiment of the Russian cavalry, they proceeded through the Empress' throne room, otherwise known as the Hall of the Order of St. Catherine.
Nikolai barely glanced at the majesty as he passed it by.
Quickly, purposefully, he emerged on the upper floor. According to security, Marcus had not yet returned to his residence. Nikolai would not wait long, but his own fervent curiosity would soothe his patience for now. The power surged bright as a thousand stars on the edge of his mind, but Nikolai coolly resisted the temptation to grasp it. Not yet.
Perhaps the Sigma was the source of the flash and perhaps he wasn't, but whether or not he met screaming-white strobes of Essence, or merely the Ascendancy with his hands clasped lightly behind his back, the young man was in for a surprise.
Across from him, Scion and his future partner, likely in the boardroom as in the bedroom, a woman named Kade, were discussing their mutual love of vodka and cigars. Their flirtation was so opaque, Nikolai had to steel himself from rolling his eyes. Kade was no damsel, here. It was Scion who was likely to get screwed when she was finished with him. She preferred to trap her competition elegantly as a spider caught a wine glass. If Scion were wise, he'd pawn her off to another Moscow billionaire. The question that Nikolai would be watching to see, however, was whom Scion Marveet assigned the role of chief rival. His choice in destination, handing off a poisoned dart to the rival alpha male, would be quite enlightening. Rumors were that Scion might take Valentin's place when the Privilege retired. Nikolai hid his smile behind a sip of water. There was a reason Scion was at his table tonight: to fan the flames of those rumors.
Nikolai himself was drawn into talks with General of the Army Borodin and the Justice while subjects drifted from cartels and Mexico to vodka and contracts, but at his right, a far more mundane topic vollied back and forth.
Michael drew upon an expanse of power that Nikolai was forced to take notice, but his acknowledgement of the man's powers drew no more acknowledgement than the way Pyotr shifted back and forth at his post.
Nikolai did not watch them. Truthfully he was disinterested in Michael's method of interrogation. He clearly suspected the source of the flash was the new Sigma, and perhaps he was. Why else would the taciturn commander deign to bother with an intern? Following the explicit discussion upstairs, the idea of Michael engaged in smalltalk was laughable.
Nikolai soon ceased to distract himself with such thoughts, and turned the enormity of his attention back to the delicacies at hand. By the time dessert was placed, Nikolai's orchestrations promised him an assembly of government cast-offs eager to return to power. What's more, they were fully capable of governing, but as demonstrated by Scion's stories, lacked the means to enforce such authority.
To some at the table, perhaps it seemed Nikolai was too interested in Mexico. He was, no doubt, as he was interested in every second-world order that remained, but the volcanic-tension surging within that state would not be the next collection to his Custody. Like he had twenty-five years ago, he needed the volcano to erupt. From afar he could orchestrate small cracks, planted t the seams of each and every powerhouse in the country until the glass house collapsed upon itself. Fortunately for this foreigner, Nikolai did not intend to be the one to plant the next flag on the rubble. For now, the Ascendancy's aims were northward.
Dinner wrapped up and with it, Nikolai once more ascended the podium to deliver his thanks and wishes for a happy Christmas. He caught the eye of the Consul of Communications when he did. The man had urged him to abandon the religion-specific holdiay in favor of a broader term. To which Nikolai finally told him that if anyone did not wish to attend the Kremlin's Christmas dinner, they were very much allowed to decline the invitation. Nikolai was not a particularly religious man despite the service he would attend Christmas morning, but political correction for the sake of wounded feeligs was a weakness he would not accomodate.
As the room emptied, there were many goodbyes to be shared. This was the capstone night for the Foreign Press Corps, for instance. With Nicholas Trano absent, Nikolai had little specific interest in greeting any single member. However he made the effort to express his gratitude and welcome their insights in the future. The Custody press corps rushed out to make good on their stories for the night. He expected the first, formal interpretation of the night's success to be featured within the hour. Viktor had already mentioned glowing returns from the minute-by-minute social propogandas at work. There were others he intended to see before the night concluded, and as he did, such was when he took note of the tall, dark Sigma. Nikolai watched him briefly. In the middle of second course, Nik allowed his powers to return to the universe from whence they came. He'd not glanced at Marcus when the presence suddenly disappeared, but he trusted Michael to have noted any reaction, if there was one.
Two Barrier agents accompanied him out of the ballroom itself. There was the long, opulent walk to make down the length of adjoining ballroom of St. Alexander hall. The brightness of the chandeliers themselves seemed to sting his eyes, and briefly, Nik yearned for the cool, closeted darkness of his basement residence.
He stopped the agents as they turned toward the Grand Staircase. They spun, and seemingly in an instant, Nikolai and his escorts disappeared in favor of another way to the Grand Palace's upper levels. The Grand Staircase, with its red center carpet and gilded artwork lining the path, would be a fitting departure for the Ascendancy: as it was that the Hall of Saint Andrei was once the throne room of the Imperial Palace. The stage upon which the Ascendancy spoke positioned before the historical thrones themselves.
But he had other purposes. "Find out where the Sigma is,"
he spoke to the second of the two agents.
The three of them disappeared along the opposite wing of the Palace. Through the room of Chevalier's Guard, the heavy guard regiment of the Russian cavalry, they proceeded through the Empress' throne room, otherwise known as the Hall of the Order of St. Catherine.
Nikolai barely glanced at the majesty as he passed it by.
Quickly, purposefully, he emerged on the upper floor. According to security, Marcus had not yet returned to his residence. Nikolai would not wait long, but his own fervent curiosity would soothe his patience for now. The power surged bright as a thousand stars on the edge of his mind, but Nikolai coolly resisted the temptation to grasp it. Not yet.
Perhaps the Sigma was the source of the flash and perhaps he wasn't, but whether or not he met screaming-white strobes of Essence, or merely the Ascendancy with his hands clasped lightly behind his back, the young man was in for a surprise.