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A Prison For The Soul (Closed 16)

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A Prison For The Soul (Closed 16)

Post by Jahbulon on April 21st 2014, 4:07 am

"I am all-powerful Time which destroys all things, and I have come here to slay these men. Even if thou dost not fight, all the warriors facing thee shall die." - Krishna in an excerpt from the Bhagavad Gita



(Photo of the Shard in the background, with London Bridge in the Foreground)

Office of Rupert Lambert, The Shard Skyscrapper, City of London, United Kingdom: The beautiful, tall, blonde female villain known as Jahbulon stood in the middle of investment banker Rupert Lambert's personal office at Lambert Investments, blood dripping from a knife that she clenched tightly in her right hand. Lambert lay face down at his desk, dead from a knife wound to the throat. Bodies with similar knife wounds lay all around Lambert Investments, though these were mere victims of circumstance, in the wrong place at the wrong time. To Jahbulon their deaths were regrettable, though meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, which was all that mattered to her anymore. No longer did she think in a small way, rather her every though was now devoted to something much bigger than herself, which was why Rupert Lambert had died that day....

While the late CEO and Founder of Lambert Investments Rupert Lambert was an investment banker by trade, he was also 33rd degree Freemason, who'd been awarded the last and most coveted degree of Freemasonry by the Supreme Council, the ruling body of the rite. So why did Jahbulon, a Masonic deity kill him and his entire office staff? It was simple really.... He'd opposed the means that Jahbulon and the Supreme Council of the Freemasons were willing to go to bring about the "New World Order" openly in the council chambers. Leading Jahbulon and the Supreme Council to fear Lambert would talk to the media they didn't control, perhaps unhinging the single most important event in the last thousand years of human history. This was something that neither Jahbulon or the Supreme Council could risk..... So it was Rupert Lambert's lips that sealed his death warrant, as the Supreme Council of the Freemasons was a treacherous place.

When she'd entered the office in the skimpy white dress, she was greeted with smiles from the male office staff, who'd likely thought she was some high priced escort their boss had paid for some after work fun. She watched as those smiles turned to horror as she used her telekinetic powers to levitate a dozen knives from her handbag. She watched as horror turned to pain and death as the knives all found their marks. With Lambert's underlings disposed, Jahbulon moved onto their master, making sure he met the same end. Albeit much, much slower.... The pain and agony she inflicted on Lambert being much greater because he was to serve as a symbol of what would happen to any within the Masonic Rite who'd even consider speaking to outsiders of what was to come.

With Rupert Lambert now thoroughly dead, Jahbulon set the knife she was holding down on his desk, then reached in her handbag and produced a silver cord. Then in a display of tremendous telekinetic ability, she levitated Rupert Lambert's body into the air, then flipped him legs up. She then levitated the silver cord into the air, tying it around his left ankle, and tying one end to a fire sprinkler on the ceiling. Hanging by his left leg, Rupert Lambert's right leg was placed behind, then across his left leg, which was a piece of powerful symbolic imagery for a Mason. Jahbulon then levitated the bloody knife she'd placed onto the desk into the air, using it and the blood to write "I Am Enriched By Death" onto the wall. To some what she'd written would be a warning, while to others it would be a guiding light.

Her work done, Jahbulon walked towards the bathroom, which she'd been in before, as the blood flowing from under the bathroom door flowed like a calling card. She'd chased down a young woman who'd tried to hide in one of the stalls at the start of the killing, the woman meeting her end on the cold tile floor. Jahbulon pushed the door open with her right hand, as she entered the bathroom and carefully stepped over the young woman's lifeless body. Jahbulon navigating the blood soaked tile slowly, making sure she didn't get any blood on her white pumps.

She opened the far stall, the sound of light music filling the emptiness of the cavernous, overly sterile looking restroom. Using her telekinetic powers, Jahbulon levitated the last two objects from her handbag, a black tourniquet and a syringe with a golden substance inside. With great care Jahbulon levitated the tourniquet towards her left, as she used her telekinesis to tie the tourniquet around her lower bicep, lastly assuring it was extremely tight by tugging on the end of the rubber tourniquet with her mouth. Next she levitated the syringe towards her, which she took with her right hand and pulled the cap off the needle with her teeth. She then slowly brought the needle to her left arm, piercing the skin and guiding it into her vein. As she did this she closed her eyes and pushed down on the slide, as the golden substance coursed into her veins.....

.....................................................................

"My body is instantly hit with rushing numbness... What momentary pain there was is now gone, as I pull the needle from my arm, blood trickling out of my arm and falling to the tile floor below. My eyes lower as my breathing slows. I like it. I like how in a moment all of my bodies feelings can fade to total numbness. The floor seems to get closer and then further away. The roof begins to tilt and then spin. I'm losing control of my senses and I love it. There is something freeing in not having control. My perception begins to falter.... I crash down to the floor. I don't feel the fall. Ethereal dreams come in my lucid nightmares, as earlier visions consume my later thoughts.

It's 1987... I am standing inside of a large metal dome at the Soviet Unions Institute for Theoretical and Experimental Physics in Leningrad. The Director of Directorate 6 Professor Zhores Ivanovich Alferov pats me on the back and says "Everything is going to be alright...", as he guides me towards the sparking machine he's created. I've been training for this moment for two years..... A moment the Chairman of the KGB is also here to witness. I step into the blinding light that Professor Alferov's machine has created as I feel as if I'm sucked into a tornado. I'm the first known meta-human or human to pierce the fourth dimension.... Traveling to London, England.... In the year 1810.

It's 1931. I am 15 years old and live with my parents in the Urals, after fleeing Petrograd when the Soviets took power when I was only a baby. I stand in the corner of my parents room, while my dad lays over my mother and yells "Anna!" over and over. I move my trembling hands over my ears to block out his cries. The doctor packs his belongings, says a few words to my hysterical father and then leaves the room as our priest enters the room. I've never known true loss until this moment.... The moment my mother died from Cholera. As I rock back and fourth I curse god for taking my mother from me, for leaving my father heartbroken, and for making death inescapable...

It's 1933. I am 17 years old and live at the Kharkiv School for Girls. Water begins to travel into my lungs as i struggle underwater, hearing nothing but my own terror, and seeing nothing by churning water. With one final effort I manage to grab onto something and pull myself to the surface of Lake Yalpuh in the south of the Soviet Province of the Ukraine. Once on the surface I cough up water, breakfast, and bile. The headmistress and other children are screaming. They're afraid of me. The headmistress telling me over and over again "You've drown her!!! You've drown Tatyana!". I'm confused.... Tatyana and the other girls flipped my rowboat, almost drowning me.... Then I see Tatyana's lifeless body being dragged fom Lake Yalpuh as a lifeguard calls me a "Freak".

It's 1943. I am 28 years old and a member of the KGB's "Outfit 27" (The KGB's earlier Meta-Warfare Unit), which fights alongside the Red Army in the "Great Patriotic War". We've been sent to Stalingrad to smash the Axis Forces flanks on orders from Stalin himself. I am terrified of what is to come. As our train rumbles across the vast grassy steppes, within twenty miles of the front line, the unforgettable sound of a pair of diving Ju-87 "Stuka" Dive Bombers fill the air. Each lose a pair of bombs in their attack dive. Instinctively I use my telekinetic powers to levitate the bombs in midair, then send them hurtling back at the German Ju-87's, blowing both planes from the sky. It is the first time I've intentionally killed someone....

It's 1970. I am 54 years old and fighting with the KGB's Directorate 6 (The evolutionary KGB Directorate of Outfit 27) in the Vietnam War. I haven't appeared to physically age a day in the last thirty years, however mentally I feel as though Vietnam is unhinging me... I return to Saigon with a group of Directorate 6 operatives and Viet Cong and find that Dr.Alikhanov, the love of my life, with whom I had separated from had died in Leningrad of old age. I soon realize that part of the reason I'd come to Vietnam was to avoid the inevitability of facing his death, as I'd realized that I'll lose everyone important in my life, while I am trapped in it.

It's 2012. I am 96 years old, unemployed, and living in a rundown flat in St.Petersburg. I've quit the FSB for over a decade, while burning through the money I'd saved, forcing me to find work as a gun for hire when necessary. Decades war, wariness of life, drug addiction, and mental illness have taken their toll on my mind, while my body has remained young. I haven't left my apartment in nearly a year. I am sick of life, sick of waking up in a time I no longer feel a part of, and sick of losing anyone who's ever been close to me. I place the Makarov pistol in my mouth, close my eyes, then pull the trigger. I have a splitting headache as I spit out the bullet, realizing how foolish of a girl I was when I cursed God for making death inescapable.

It took 96 years and a bullet but with time I realized that fate is not the same for all.... The mortality and fragility of human life is something to be celebrated, not feared or hated... Though the beauty of the fragile mortal life is wasted on most people. My body is a prison for my soul. Death not being allowed to take my body and free my wary soul has made me sure of that. My Meta-Gene is a gift a curse, heaven and hell, a duality I now clearly see... As no gift is truly free... The Indian holy book, the Bhagavad Gita says "I am all-powerful Time which destroys all things, and I have come here to slay these men. Even if thou dost not fight, all the warriors facing thee shall die.", but what happens when this is no longer true? Have I then become the God that I cursed as a child? Watching from afar as those all around me die, until I am all alone?

............................................................................

There was a noise from outside.... Quickly snapping to, Jahbulon stood up and carefully listened. She figured it was an employee who'd been out a lunch when she'd rampaged through the office. Someone who'd been lucky, but clearly not lucky enough, because she wasn't about to leave any witnesses while she was still in the upscale office. Jahbulon crept out of the stall, heading towards the bathroom door, where she could get a better ear on whoever was moving around in the hallway.


Last edited by Jahbulon on April 21st 2014, 10:13 am; edited 1 time in total

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Re: A Prison For The Soul (Closed 16)

Post by 16 on April 21st 2014, 6:19 am

Inhale, exhale, inhale, and now the last moment the person exhaled his eyes opened up to see the microscope he was staring into and the body count he just made in order to keep his dream alive. 6 dead, not including the ring leader his main target of course; Caught them right in front of a club, found a nice spot in front of them with a window outside above them and showered bullets. The bullets hit only who he allowed to hit, his target and their muscle now lay on the ground in the middle of night with dried up blood complimenting the streets and sidewalk. Taking a picture of it with his cellular device, so that he could show his employer proof of his completed mission he was now satisfied and ready to head back to his employer to receive the rest of his payment. Taking his gun apart, making a phone call to some mysterious person before placing all of the pieces into a case made for that specific gun, he locked it up and headed towards the roof of the building. This was standard protocol for Sixteen, every step instead of using the streets he was aiming to go higher so he could see the sky and when he got to the top of the building he opened the door and could see the night growing by minute. He could feel the air’s embrace almost as if nature itself was just happy to see him, he wasted no time in running forward and leaping off of the building as he began to sprint and jump building covering distances in no time.


His facemask showing an Asian man, running at about 200 mph moving on top of surfaces, showing off acrobatics for whoever had trained enough eye to see him move. He landed in an alley far from his target’s laying spot, where he walked to a black car with no destination parked. He tapped the trunk and it opened up, revealing a suitcase, replacing the gun case with the suitcase he began to change into something more conferrable that his employer knows him by. All black, current palms, a special close quarter combat weaponry, gauntlets with a metal plate attached to the top forearm for support and a little defense; thick long sleeve shirt that held on to his body tighter than his mask that showed only his eyes and hair. His nose and below was guarded by his elegantly made domo ninja mask with the rest of the lower body outfit to match the all black, traditional strap on ankle shoes giving him the most fatal look in the night. Utility belt and gun holsters with guns present, check, mind over matter, check and his cell phone for proof - Check. His skin was chocolate, but his eyes were as cold as ice and as blue as glaciers which was weird; but it actually showed off as a more attractive feature if anything.


He began his movement by jumping and climbing to the top of the building before accelerating his speed to high speed movement, stopping a building away from his destination as his Danger sense tingled just a little, indicating to sixteen to be careful, staying within the shadows he took the roof approach and made his way down to the office. Staying in the shadows as much as he could, making his way to his employer’s room he used the hallway to walk in a cautious and slow manner, moving slower he smelt the never ending almost sensation of fresh blood lingering through the air; Sixteen realized he didn’t see an exit as he stood at the entrance of the door of his employers office as he saw him and his muscle all dead waiting on him. Sixteen probably wasn’t going to save them anyways, but it was the thought of knowing someone was that slick with it made him a bit more curious than what he wanted to be.


Possible a setup, or maybe the guy had bigger problems than what other would think. He was very quiet, didn’t think much of the situation, this was a cold and nasty world; there has been a lot of crazy and fucked up situations that he has found himself into and a pile of dead bodies wasn’t anywhere near worse in his eyes. Investigating took seconds, as he noticed they all died through a knife, meaning someone came in and single handedly or with a group of knife fighters was able to skillfully cut down a group of grown human men and be on their Mary way was quite some way of looking at it. Sixteen didn’t know If he was more interested in finding out who murdered his employer in cold blood before he got here and investigate the bigger picture, or to leave and find another employer.

His Danger Senses tingled slightly as his body turned to see …

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"You must realize. that fear is not real. It is a product of thoughts you create. Don't let me be misunderstood, danger is very real, but fear itself is a choice"

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Re: A Prison For The Soul (Closed 16)

Post by Jahbulon on April 22nd 2014, 8:13 pm

Jahbulon listened as whoever entered the office proceeded to continue their investigation deeper into the office, which meant they clearly weren't afraid of dead bodies. It either meant they were very brave and stupid..... Or very brave and skilled.... Either way she felt compelled to kill whoever was venturing deeper and deeper into the office. If only for the simple fact they were in the building at the same time she was. Though Jahbulon knew she was to much of a "Ghost" for any police department, even INTERPOL to have any information on... She'd made sure she destroyed the security cameras and their system when she'd finished her attack, but she wasn't willing to risk someone getting even a partial visual on her. The only question now was how much of a fight was this person going to put up....

Jahbulon could hear the footsteps had passed the bathroom, which meant her quarry would be much easier to get the jump on now. Focusing was difficult for Jahbulon however, as the effects of the morphine were still raging through her mind and her veins. When under the influence Jahbulon tended to be less focused then when she was sober, but she was certainly more violent and cruel when she was using and that certainly had its uses for villain.

Jahbulon readied herself for her attack, as several throwing knives began to levitate behind her. Knowing Lambert hired all kinds of unsavory characters to carry out corrupt espionage... Even assassination... Jahbulon was careful to consider the fact that she might be coming up against someone who knew a thing or two about how to defend them-self. She took a deep breath, then carefully pushed against the bathroom door, so as to not make a sound.

With the door open Jahbulon worked quickly, rushing out into the carpeted, finely decorated hallway, and turning to face her opponent. Without hesitation Jahbulon pushed both arms forward towards the man who was dressed all in black and was clearly not a part of the office staff, which sent the throwing knives that had been levitating behind her hurling towards the man. Jahbulon was careful to make sure the knives were headed towards the throat and head, as she wanted to avoid simply wounding the man and making him suffer needlessly. Though by the way he was dressed, she wasn't so sure he'd go down as quietly as she'd hoped....

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Re: A Prison For The Soul (Closed 16)

Post by 16 on April 23rd 2014, 3:14 am

A door was opened, not any kind of ordinary office doors either but the bathroom door of the female bathroom on this particular floor that him and another was standing on. He was well aware that he wasn’t alone, his senses gave him that before he got inside of the building but the fact that it registered as danger meant something for him that would be shown at this moment as he caught eyes on the other person who was likely the one who did this to his employer.


Tall, Blond and as much as I’d say beautiful she was actually armed … but not in her hands; levitating knifes is something you’d see in a movie or something but not in this case. Her back was to the door that was now widely open as his danger senses gave him the breakdown immediately of what threats and target is within what kind of range and time. Distance and the rest were all physical.

Sixteen’s facial expression to the fatal image wasn’t anything special, perhaps a squint of possible interest due to him immediately figuring out she was more of an opponent, or at least a meta human for Deaths sake, enough of that time for the action.

Battle Tactic was now set, using defensive mode seemed to be a position he was forced in once he took his first step into the office building, he didn’t need to use absolute lethal force but it had to be lethal enough. Timing was key, his eyes making sure to match hers at that particular moment, keeping flow with even silence itself as he felt something was different about her despite the fact he has never seen her before. His Danger sense erupted in his head, his right hand went to his pocket pulling out a personal nicely done knife of his own and spun around with the knife in battle position creating a shield of the sword effectively blocking and deflecting the throwing knifes sending two into the celling leaving a mark on the place and the others hurling right at the tall blonde woman’s face.


He wasn’t supposed to kill her, well not technically supposed to but he meant for the rest of the knifes to hit her at least; Sixteen was smart enough to guess anyone that could pick up knifes with their minds could catch them, but if her powers were pretty low and her reflexes weren’t superb Sixteen might actually would have killed this woman.


If he knew how epic this woman is, if he knew that she would probably most likely in one of his predictions catch the knifes with her mind … he might have to pull out the grenades. Slamming his right foot back down he stopped instantly in place, he let out a large sigh; His frontal face mask very much allowing him access to air as his ice eyes watched closely to the response of his moves. If she managed to live through an attack like that, it would grant her the right to have words in combat with Sixteen and not just fist. His voice almost sounding as if he was whispering, almost talking to himself but letting his voice be known to the other combatant.

“Another assassin? …”

Let’s not get this confused, he was very much used to other assassins giving contracts for his name, but he never assumed automatically that could be the case; assuming can get one killed and he knew that more than anyone else.


On the other hand what she decided to do was …

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Re: A Prison For The Soul (Closed 16)

Post by Jahbulon on April 23rd 2014, 4:29 pm

When the man in black deflected the knives as easily as he did, it showed Jahbulon that without almost any doubt she was facing another Meta-Human. His incredible reflexes and speed were to great for him to be a mere human, as even a professional athlete couldn't react as this man just had. This certainly meant that the black man posed more of a threat to Jahbulon then she expected to find when she'd entered into Lambert Investments with deadly intentions. Her time and training with the KGB and later the FSB had taught her to be ready to anything and she was quickly adaptable to any situation. Of course a spy had to be adaptable, otherwise they'd be dead very, very quickly in the profession they'd either chosen or had been impressed into.

Once the man in black deflected the knives, two slammed into the ceiling, while several more were sent back at Jahbulon, heading towards her face. She needed to react quickly and did so almost without thinking. Of course seeing as Jahbulon had sent the knives hurtling towards the man using her telekinetic powers in the first place, she could just as easily stop them with those same power, but she wanted to show him a little style. Afterall one didn't simply walk into the Freemasons, proclaiming themself to be a Masonic deity without a little sense of flare and ability to create some good drama.

As the knives rushed towards Jahbulon, she began a backhand spring, which would allow the knives to pass over her. With style and grace she completed the backhand spring, her form that of a gymnasts, which spoke to her gymnastic training during her days at a girls finishing school some time ago. When Jahbulon finished her move and was right side up, the knives had passed her and were heading down the hallway. Stopping them with her power, Jahbulon sent the knives backtowards her, their sharp ends now facing the man in black before her.

As she was ready to continue her attack, Jahbulon heard the man faintly whisper “Another assassin? …” , which she could take several other ways. Perhaps the man had been sent here to kill Lambert as well? Perhaps he was an assassin hired by lambert and thought she was as well? Or perhaps he knew she'd killed Lambert and was simply stating they shared a similar profession. Whatever the case, the fact the man in black was an assassin peaked Jahbulons interest.... Though Jahbulon certainly had the skills of an assassin, she'd be far to busy to undertake the killings of people like Rupert Lambert at will anymore. There was much more that required her attention if the Masons were to bring about the "New World Order" in short order.... Certainly they had assassins.... But another Meta? There they were lacking....

Responding to the man in black, Jahbulon nodded and said in her thick, aristocratic sounding St.Petersburg accent "Among other things.....". Jahbulon looked around the blood soaked office and slowly adopted a more relaxed defensive posture and said "Something tells me from the way you fight.... You aren't like other people.... Am I correct?" as she faced the man in black.

Before he responded Jahbulon nodded to the door and said "And I can also assume you were in the employ of the late Mr.Lambert??? I will tell you this... Mr.Lambert was in my employ and crossed several of my associates, as well as myself, which is why he is now the late Mr.Lambert. So you already know that I and my associates do not tolerate being crossed... But if you wish to stop fighting each other.... Know that I have use for a man of your skills... And I pay...". Jahbulon kept at the ready, but she felt she knew the mind of an assassin well enough to know that they'd never risk themselves without being paid, nor turn down a reasonable offer of employment. Depending on who this masked man was and how skilled he really was.... Jahbulon was hopeful that Lamberts death served a dual purpose.

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Major Zara Samsonov "Jahbulon"

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Re: A Prison For The Soul (Closed 16)

Post by 16 on April 23rd 2014, 10:57 pm

Slicing winds alert Sixteen just how fast the knifes were in movement, and with that confirmation it was very nice to see that she survived. Can we please get on the fact that she really just launched knives at him without her hands, so it’s perfectly clear she’s a meta human due to not seeing any kind of weapons around her body. Then the tall blonde chick wanted to flip in the office while there are dead bodies in the area in some more shit, like this is cheer leader practice or something. This was a bit of a serious situation, dead bodies along with two meta humans ready to fight each other to the death like it’s the grant finale of a battle to the death like Mortal Kombat or something similar, but I wonder what Sixteen’s finisher is going to be; Let’s focus more on the rp for now alright.


Every step was being monitored, by the assassin of course and after they sped past her he didn’t hear the sound that he expected to her, he didn’t hear the metal material slamming into the wall as he did with the knifes right above him, instead they stopped in midair; See that is the kind of shit that makes his danger senses want to slap him a couple of times but it didn’t register as danger, it tingled meaning it was a feeling of understanding the threat was getting back in ready mode which was fine because next time he was going to go combat mode he was going to start taking the fight to a more closer level of appreciation. Her readying was steady as she seemed to have halt her what would be attack, after hearing his soft and confusing words of evaluation, Sixteen then came up with a decision to listen and see would she speak or actually make a move, one thing was certain his comment did indeed make her think about the situation just as he did when he noticed her complete change in pace.


Her first statement came in as a opener for another statement as she relaxed those muscles, let’s take a minute to focus on the muscles these girls have and her figure … wait … she’s talking again. An evaluation on her part, and also a somewhat compliment was thrown towards the black guy’s way; his facial expression didn’t need any movement as his knife went silently back into his holster showing her a little equality by relaxing his stance. He gave her a small but very responsive nod, showing he was able to respond in a non-hostile situation that could probably end up in one or two ways but in the mean time she definitely has something to say to his fine sexy tall chocolate ass.


She began making strong assumptions, theses that were much more accurate than he could entail as the time went on as it really has only been maybe two or three minutes in the hallway, well that was how fast skilled fighters could move and this one proved to be quite the catch. She explained the situation thoroughly, with some unneeded details missing but for the most part this was part of the cold world he was talking about, and in her speech he sighed in relief as she spoke with large knowledge. It was surely his turn to respond, before he could say something his eyes focused on the dead bodies once more, taking a couple of steps closer to her although they were fairly far away from each other a dead body was what he was aiming for, his strong and able body bending down and picking up a wallet holding it in his left hand as he opened it up and looked inside, his blue eyes looked back at her glancing before closing it and trying to make the best of the situation he thought of something that would change the course of the conversation:

‘There is nothing wrong with spending money on strangers, especially girls. I know you’re not good with people but try asking a girl out on a date; Emotions and Chemistry between humans and beings are always beautiful … try it’ –


Someone once told him that, he was really thinking about it and not that much about the offer due to him trying the whole ‘trying to be normal’ thing over. He spoke sounding nervous, he didn’t have much of slang like most African Americans, his English sounded a strong Italian due to him always being in Italy recently, and although he sounded nervous he was certain she knew that it could turn into fury at any moment.


“Let’s talk about it over dinner, how about we not make plans with dead bodies all over the place … your choice, I would say my treat but it’s not my wallet …”


His muscles were relaxed, his Danger senses were quiet and it no longer seemed much like a battle, perhaps a misunderstanding between combatants but the reason he was nervous wasn’t because of the person exactly but more because he wasn’t used to talking about things that didn’t seem too business like. So why not mix business with what could be pleasure? I’m sure if she could flip in the air she could flip on top of this long black ….

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"You must realize. that fear is not real. It is a product of thoughts you create. Don't let me be misunderstood, danger is very real, but fear itself is a choice"

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Re: A Prison For The Soul (Closed 16)

Post by Jahbulon on April 27th 2014, 11:23 am

A small smile crept across Jahbulon's face, as she chuckled slightly when the man in black said “Let’s talk about it over dinner, how about we not make plans with dead bodies all over the place … your choice, I would say my treat but it’s not my wallet …” after he picked up the dead mans wallet. Jahbulon thought what he said over for a minute... A date? Not exactly how I saw this night going when I started out today... she thought to herself. Stranger things had happened however and Jahbulon wasn't about to let an opportunity to bring another Meta into the fold go to waste. The rise of the "New World Order" was at hand..... Some would get into the way, but they'd be removed in time.. As more Meta's came to see the rise of the "New World Order" was not only inevitable but preferable compared to living in the world they found themselves living in today.

Certainly Jahbulon wasn't dressed for going any place respectable, seeing as she dressed like an escort to get easy access into Lambert Investments, distracting the male staff from her true dark intentions long enough for her to get the jump on them. However from her days in the KGB and FSB Jahbulon learned the importance of having at least a few outfits to quickly change into, as they often could get a sentry to turn the other way and be the difference between getting out of somewhere with a degree of stealth, rather then having to get out with guns blazing. Because of this she had a few outfits in her black Versace handbag, which would be appropriate for wearing out to dinner.

Jahbulon used her telepathic powers to return the knives that had been floating behind her and the knives in the ceiling to her bag. She then levitated an expensive looking, conservative and very formal white designer dress from the bag, with matching heels and a shawl. Jahbulon smiled at the man in black and said "Be glad it's not your wallet.... I have expensive tastes!", her Russian accent once again coming through. Jahbulon headed for the bathroom once again, but before she entered she simply said "I'll be out in a minute....". She opened the bathroom door and went in once again, having not outright accepted the man in blacks invitation, leaving him to wonder if she was going to accept his invitation.

Inside the bathroom Jahbulon quickly undressed, a smile across her face, as she was somewhat amused by what was happening. Putting on the dress, Jahbulon realized it had been quite some time since she'd been on a date. Quite literally it had been decades. Not that she thought this was going to go anywhere, as she viewed tonight as strictly business. With her dress and shoes on, Jahbulon levitated the gray shawl over her shoulder, careful to cover the track marks on her arms with the fine Persian shawl. With a quick check in the mirror Jahbulon smiled and said "Ready", before heading out of the bathroom and finding the man in black waiting for her.

Striding out of the bathroom, Jahbulon said "Follow me..." and the pair headed towards Rupert Lambert's office. Once inside the office Jahbulon levitated the dead mans desk and with a rush of her arm sent in crashing through the window and into the night sky. Jahbulon then used her powers to break off a chunk of the tile floor, which she stepped on and said to the man in black "Get on...". Once he was on Jahbulon levitated the tile out of the window, the pair now standing outside of London's largest sky scrapper, giving them a commanding view of one of the worlds great cities. Lowering her hands, the tile they were riding on descended towards the ground.

Once they were on the ground, Jahbulon walked over to a parked, black Aston Martin Vanquish. Jahbulon unlocked the doors with her powers, then went into her bag for the keys. Once both were inside the luxurious piece of British engineering, Jahbulon started up the powerful care, as the engines roared to life. Then using her powers she placed the Aston Martin into gear and off they went into the London night. Turning to the man in black Jahbulon said "So.... Where to? Since you're buying...". Though she didn't want to admit it, she was enjoying herself, perhaps it was being around someone who was different like herself.

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Major Zara Samsonov "Jahbulon"

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Re: A Prison For The Soul (Closed 16)

Post by 16 on May 23rd 2014, 7:16 pm

Small smile creeping on the face of a woman that was trying to kill him could be the sign that she was coming up with a very destructive plan, against his cheeky offer. Honestly he wasn't expecting a yes, he was expecting a death battle to forward itelf into the hallway but instead she made a different choice instead of actually doing things a lot of assassins can not really think of doing. Not fighting their way out of something, that or using a more stealthy approach to take him down but these lovely Danger senses and reflexes allowed him to know when some freaky shit he didn't like outside of the bed to allow him to act accordingly. Of course she didn't know that, but that's okay no telling kinky stuff on the first date right? Was she really going to go like that though? Not that it was something wrong with it but to him like stated he wasn't expecting a yes at all, so when the knifes began moving through the air he almost expected another wave of attacks and this time he was going to start moving closer but his danger senses calmed his battle fingers down so he could wait for a response. Her response was casual yet spunky, as in without saying yes she said yes but in another instant instead she admitted she had expensive taste.


Well it isn't his wallet so he really doesn't care for it anyways, what's he going to do ... go to jail? Not likely. She leaves into a room to do what he doesn't know but she did inform him to wait, so while he waited he just looked at the dead bodies and admired the fancy work she did for her own gain. Fresh blood still lingered, only slightly now, the place was still nice but this particular area was just a little messy if he did say so himself. She came out with a different attire and stated to follow her, a woman who calls the shots eh? He walked with confidence but care because he didn't want to step on anyone's DNA as he picked up the rest of the wallets. This woman casually used a desk to slam into a window to make an opening for a dramatic and epic exit from the building, next came the tile so it was official she was a telekinetic. He made a easy step on it, watching his step feeling his danger senses weren't bothering him being this close to her anymore.


This meant she no longer felt like a threat, that was surely fine by him for now. 16 wasn't the best of heights, but he knew that sometimes he had to use a sky formation but he wasn't expecting this high up, fortunately she began to lower to a ground level. Being next to her and signifying her smile silently made him feel weird but a lot of people like him had to do it for comfort and future records. We got off the tile and began walking to a very nice black car, 16 and his creator wasn't really knowledgeable when it came to cars so he just thought it was nice to him, he ran wherever he needed to go - he didn't expect a ride. The smell was nice as well, reminded him a bit of his sense but of course his facial expression or body language wouldn't show. The car came to life as he looked over to her, his light blue eyes making eye contact with hers six feet tall tall in her car gave her a slight smirk she couldn't see but she probably knew was there. His speech was fluently English with just a little slang but a more intellectual explosion too it.

"Judging by the wallets, I'd say we can afford to go anywhere you want ... you killed and I took their wallets. You know stereotypical isn't it usually the other way around? To be honest I've never actually hung out with a woman before, unless you know she was an assassin like me. So it was usually mission wise, never hanging out ... even if it is business ... it's still kinda casual ... we are allowed to have fun right, I suppose I'm not used to fun either ... Sorry I'm unusually talkative right now. Anyways anywhere, I don't mind. You said you have expensive taste right?"

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"You must realize. that fear is not real. It is a product of thoughts you create. Don't let me be misunderstood, danger is very real, but fear itself is a choice"

Character Profile: Anarchy, 16
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