Blood Sport

[Marcus DuBois]

Marcus looked at the drink in its "cup". Removing the glass shards would be easy enough but the liquid itself had covered the surface of the table only moments before. Not something he was interesting in drinking. Instead he let the shape toward the bottom go and the liquid spilled out slowly, as if the entire cylinder were melting. Another weave evaporated the moisture from the liquid until all that was left was a pile of glass, the platinum cubes, and some residue from the drinks.

By the end a slight smile had formed on his lips. The exercise itself was an idle one, simply something to do. But the process had relaxed him and let his mind wander over possibilities.

Still looking at the remains he spoke quietly, as if it were nothing, "Want? Nothing, of course. You have nothing I need."
A look into the man's eyes to make clear that truth. His smile remained as he went on. "However, an acquaintance of mine- a man of some note- has referred to men like you as one of the new gods. Are you a...god?"


Before the man could answer he went on, his voice a mixture of concerned pity. "Or are you...a lion studying to be...a mouse?"
He fixed the man with a serious look. "I think you are better than"
- waving to the crowd in the direction the woman had gone- "all of this. So I ask you, what is it you want?"