((Open RP)) Rosies RP Prompts

Lady_Cyrsei · 11-17-2010 10:27 AM

This is a weekly article, delivered to you every Wednesday. These articles are intended to be a fun exercise as well as a good resource for role-players to explore Character Development so please feel free to post your own characters reaction to the weekly prompt. So be sure to stay tuned to this blog for future installments!

Has your character ever traveled outside of the war-walls? If so where and when and what happened to them there?

(The next series of stories for now will be about another character of mine, a Vigilante whom goes by the name of Captain Sophie Storm and Farsighter respectably, I hope everyone enjoys it!))

Sophies mother had been born and raised on the Kibbutz Nir Yitzhak during the 80s, a place where Sophie would turn to during times of great need, both for herself and the Kibbutz. She would visit her family there during harvest times when under Johns care and she had never been able to understand why her mother, when she had reached the age of 17 Jillian (Born Ruth Baratz) had run away from the place she had called her home, her parents, her Ishii Ben and throwing caution and her conservative Zionist morals to the wind became a dancer in Jerusalem. What happened to Jillian there after dear reader you pretty much know, however this story is not Jillians to be told but rather what happened in that short span of time that Sophie spent abroad before returning to take up residence in the Rhode Island City which had once been her home.

Deep in Negev Desert there deep set into the mountain side a rolling valley stretching out below was the entrance of a hidden base where resided the privatized Military Company known only as The Red Lions. The Red Lions had been founded by one Grigori Rykov, a former Spetsnaz GRU officer in 1964 where the small company of men (and strange rumors said one ghostly white haired woman) in 1967 made their claim to fame in the Six Day War fighting alongside the nation of Israel against the nations of Egypt, Syria and Jordan as a commando unit sabotaging Egyptian strong points and missile outposts and at the end of only Six days Israel stood triumphant against them all.

Sophie grew up under the care of John Monroe, as her Commanding officer, adoptive father figure and friend. She had been born in the land of Israel, and to its arms she returned brought home to the land of her ancestors by John to be raised by him after the horror of the events of Dark Astoria impressed themselves permanently upon her 8 year old mind. She grew tall, strong and beautiful under the hot desert sun. She was quick and lean and in manner a cold solitary ruthlessness to survive which one glance to her wintry blue eyes could make any of the junior officers shiver when they looked at her.

Rita Monroe had met the little girl shortly after John had rescued her, it had been Ritas wish that they could adopt the little girl from Paragon City to be raised alongside the twin Monroe girls who where just about the same age as Sophie, but soon it was realized that the strange powers exhibited by the little girl needed to be controlled, and explored in a safe environment with teachers of her own kind. First they had tried contacting Magi, however the young Warlock whom they had sent to assess Sophies powers had a nervous break down and had reported that the little girl plagued him with nightmares.

In the few years she had lived with John and Rita and their two lovely older daughters in the D.C area it had become a trial for Rita to keep Sophie in line while John was away on assignment. The local schools would not take her after her episodes of lying, stealing, breaking things and generally scaring the other children. However Sophie had tried on numerous occasions to tell her teachers that she had not broken that girls doll, or lied to that teacher about her husband cheating on her, or taken that boys glove but that it had been the others which surrounded and plagued her night and day. The few times when she had tried to explain most teachers had dismissed her as making up stories or when Sophie would say something a little to close to the truth she was again shifted from teacher to teacher, and school to school until Rita could take no more.

In the end John had applied to Rykov for permission to introduce the little girl to a compatriot who was on retainer with the Lions, a young but vastly powerful mage by the name of Damien Wrent. Damien was sixteen from Havana Cuba, but he had lived all over the Caribbean, Africa and South America. He was born however in Sierra Leon and grew up there learning to fight and survive in that hostile land as a child soldier. What was more Damien Wrent was a Babalorisha a priest or godchild in Santeria and a very powerful illusionist besides. When the young man had met Sophie he had thrown the ekwele for her and he had seen their future together. She was then only ten years old.

Rykov himself a long time and dear friend of Johns agreed with John one night after dinner over a cup of coffee and a few slices of Ritas home made cheese cake that to his assessment that the little girl would be better off, much to Ritas dismay, being raised amongst the few other child trainees at the Red Lions base. This way not only could she receive the best education her skills required in the proximity to a qualified teacher, but also so that the skills for fighting and survival she had not given up since joining the Monroe household (like sleeping with knives under her pillow, hording canned goods, making crude weapons, collecting water via a home made apparatus on the roof, building fires and hiding where no one could find her, could be put to some practical use.

So it was decided and Sophie said good bye to a tearful Rita and the likewise teary set of Monroe girls to live entirely in the desert landscape in a den of Lions with promises of Christmas and summer holidays to visit.

She had been trained in various forms of hand to hand combat, to use all manner of guns with skill and precision, to create and disable all forms of traps, mines and warheads, to assess threats and to find the most strategic points in order to take them down. Sophie became most proficient in the use of edged weapons and while a dear friend of hers was the most dangerous shot with his sniper rifle it was said Sophie was just as good with her blades.

Her training with Damien had been sporadic through out her years residing with the Red lions, he was always on undercover missions, he worked with other organizations and Governments other than the Red lions, mainly those who could afford his astronomical fees no matter what they wanted done as long as he got his fee was all Damien cared about. In short Damien Wrent was a Mercenary.

Sophie however saw none of Damiens flaws, indeed he kept all of his dealings to himself alone, he was known under many different aliases and those who talked often found there way to the bottom of a vat of Lyme somewhere out in the desert. Damien could afford to be choosy about the jobs he took however and he did so, someone with his specialized skill set and nominal moral compass was in short supply and Damien made a good show of it always around Sophie. He would tell her of the horrible foreign dignitary who he had just killed whom had been ordering his army to murder children and **** the women of whole villages before burning farms and leaving the survivors to starve. Most of the time he was right, but then that is the nature of the world and especially the one Sophie had lived in.

Sophie had grown up quite enamored with Damien Wrent, he had been dangerous, skilled and mysterious as well as devilishly charming. In a base full of soldiers some her own age or not many years older Sophie had never had many romantic feelings for any save one, so when Damien had returned to Base camp and announced Sophies education in the mystical arts would begin in earnest. (for until that time her powers had simply been dampened by an amulet given to her by Damien when they had first met, which as Sophie would later come to find out had been transferring some of her natural and uncontrollable power to Damiens use instead of her own.)With the boy whom she had been fond there had only ever been a single kiss before he too was gone, off to fight in the Rikti invasion of Tel Aviv, and leaving her to her fate she began her real training.

It was during this time that John and Sophie had received word that Rita and the two girls had been in a car accident. The girls had survived though both remained in comas but Rita had not made it and died in transport to the hospital. John and Sophie traveled back to D.C to sit by the bedside of the two girls who had been like sisters to her and when their spirits left their bodies it was not Sophie who wept She saw them shining and pure forms linger near her only a moment before with tender smiles and waving hands they walked off into oblivion together hand in hand as they had entered this world Rebecca and Anne.

Sophie had tried to comfort John as best as she could, but a silent gravity overcame him after the last coffin was put into the ground. He had not wanted to hear about the shining light or the open door way. He had not wanted her to talk about either Rita or the girls again, he became silent and remote. He no longer dined with her or Commander Rykov, he put himself again on active duty instead of training and tactical operations as he had been for the past seven years. He argued all the time with the commander behind closed doors and the only person he seemed to talk to was Damien.

Indeed Damien at that point and time had become inseparable to both John and Sophie herself, she awoke every morning with his name on her lips eager to tell him of some new dream or plan for their study, they would run together every morning and talk long into the night. He became her everything and when John had walked away from the Lions forever it was Damien who told her it was the only way.

John had taken a group of his finest men, those men and women whom where especially talented, who excelled in certain techniques and training to work for him instead of the lions as Mercenaries. It was Damien who gave John contacts and names, who set up meetings and helped to negotiate terms. It was Damien whom organized and orchestrated it all.

However as the saying goes, love is blind, and no lover was more so than Sophie. She thought the sun and moon rose and set over Damien Wrent, and to his own astonishment at least, though he had seen it fore told so many years ago in the ekwele, he adored and coveted her with such a zealous almost crazed passion that only a Sociopath could call love. In fact he had already killed two men who had asked for her hand to dance one night at a dance hall in Bogota, and a string of others in all the cities and town they had visited since. Sophie had never known however, indeed when one night deep in the heart of the Columbian jungles after the two had come together in the pebble lined pool of the local mineral hot spring Damien had proposed, and she had made him the happiest of men.

It was Damien to whom had convinced her that when John, whom had been acting strangely for many months, talking about retirement and not going with the team on assignments, had gone missing, that it was the right thing to do to use her power to torture the man whom had last seen John. To torture him in body and soul, for long screaming hours, deep in the wastes of Russias Siberian desert, where it was only Sophies heart which had turned from Ice to stone.

In many years that followed the two had wrought bloody macabre tyranny across the globe, killing indiscriminately on one side, and trying to find some clue of what had happened to the man whom had become her father on the other. Slowly Sophie's path had lead her back to Paragon City where she was not known as the "Harvester of Souls" where she hoped to find some clue of what had become of herself as well as John Monroe.

((Note to the reader: Special thanks to Hollowpoint Heroism for his help on the Red Lion information. The group is of his own making and when developing Sophie's back story he allowed me to use the RL as a jumping off point. Thanks B!))

Lady_Cyrsei · 11-17-2010 02:28 PM

((up dated btw))

Stryph · 11-18-2010 03:25 AM

((Well started writing about 1am thinking I could do this real quick before growing tired. Unfortunately I just watched myself rush through it so I need to get some rest. Got it saved and hopefully I'll tweak it for tomorrow. ))

Lady_Cyrsei · 11-18-2010 01:27 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Stryph

((Well started writing about 1am thinking I could do this real quick before growing tired. Unfortunately I just watched myself rush through it so I need to get some rest. Got it saved and hopefully I'll tweak it for tomorrow.

))

((cant wait to read it, this one took me a while to so dont feel rushed or anything

))

Mind Phobia · 11-18-2010 02:04 PM

((Another really, really good story. Such talent, excellent writing, good art (from other posts I've seen). Its always a tough act to follow.
Okay back to my main Taboo, her time away from Paragon, at least some of it. ))

Quote:

Has your character ever traveled outside of the war-walls? If so where and when and what happened to them there?

Paragon City 1999

Azuria looked at the young woman, although not just with normal eyes. Her vision included a look at the young womans aura, and that was more telling then any instruments that the asylum had on hand. The dark haired mystic had seen victims of the Circle of Thorns before, she had even spent some time battling the vicious mages and demons herself. She recognized their signature on this poor unfortunate, but the young woman had talent of her own, and that is what warred within her now. There was nothing that this place could do for her, Azuria was already on the phone while the Doctor stood next to her attempting to explain what he thought might be going on. There was a group in Tibet, they were the only ones who could help the young woman now.

Himalayan Mountains several weeks later.

Courtney Jane Williams stood inside the simple stone room, she shivered slightly as the hidden temple was located high within the mountains of Tibet. The red haired young woman wore a light denim jacket, a Paragon University t-shirt and faded jeans, with black sneakers. She carried a bag slung over her shoulder and looked around with wide curious eyes.

A monk came up silently behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder, causing the young woman to start and let out yelp of fear. She turned and took several steps back away from the man. He was anything but imposing. Standing at just over five and a half feet, we was bald, wearing simple robes and a kind smile.

My apologies, he said in accented English, bowing slightly. I am Geshe miss, I will be assisting you during your time here. My Master Rinpoche wishes to see you. If you would please follow me?

Courtney just stared for a moment at the man, her hands still shook from fear, which was hard to suppress. One of the many reasons that the woman in Paragon, Azuria sent her here. Finally the red head nodded and Geshe led her out the opposite door she came in and down a hallway towards a door at the far end.

As the pair entered the chamber, it was not grand nor opulent. Yet there was an undeniable sense of presence within the walls. Like everything else Courtney had seen so far, it was simple some tapestries covered the walls, and urns adorned niches within the chamber's walls. In the center, seated on a small straw mat was a wizened old man. He look ancient, but again the unmistakable air of presence surrounded him. He looked up at the two who entered the room and nodded at Geshe.

So, Miss Williams, he said, his voice was strong, and his English flawless with a hint of a British accent. Azuria tells me of your encounter with the denizens of Oranbega.

Courtney again, nodded. She was embarrassed to speak because most of the time she stuttered, or her voice quivered. Her mind still reeled with what she had witnessed in that brief encounter. Azuria had taken her out of an Asylum, but she wasn't entirely certain she didn't deserve to be in one. She was always nervous, she jumped at shadows and when she found her voice sometimes it was to scream.

Speak child, the old man said in a soft, but commanding voice. I would hear your voice.

Y-Y-Yes sir, she stuttered out. I-I'm sorry. I meant no disrespect s-s-sir.

She gritted her teeth in frustration. What was she doing here anyway?

Young lady, he said calmly, You are here because me and my brothers can help you.

I-If you can read my mind, why do-do I have to t-talk? she asked a little angry.

He looked up and Courtney gasped, his eyes were completely milk white. He was blind!

Indeed I am Miss Williams. he said calmly, But my inner eye is opened wide. And through it and knowledge of Nyingma, our most ancient order of Buddhism we shall help you deal with what you have seen. And more importantly what awaits you. You will reach beyond this Miss Williams and embrace your destiny.

Courtney had no idea what he meant by that. She didn't have a destiny. She was just a college student, well an ex-college student now. She hugged her arms to herself as her eyes started to well up with tears. Her emotions were in a turmiol.

'Courtney' a voice said inside her head. 'Calm your emotions child. You can do this.'

'No I can't!' she thought back angrily, 'every time I close my eyes I see monsters. Vicious claws, slavering teeth, they haunt my nightmares. I can't go on like this.'

'What they did to you was taboo Courtney' the voice said, it was calming, soothing. 'We are here to help you, no only regain your life, but control what those vile creatures awoke within you.'

'Taboo?' She focused on the word, it sparked something inside of her.

I will be known as Taboo. she said aloud, her voice calm, clear.

Yes. the old man replied. But that day is a long way off. For now Courtney, you must learn to calm the visions within you. And then to control your power.

She nodded, suddenly strangely no longer afraid.. For the first time in months she wasn't afraid. Her muscles relaxed, and tears did flow now. But not ones of fear or sorrow, but ones of joy.

Thank you. she whispered.

The old man merely nodded and Geshe was at her side, he gently touched her arm and she allowed herself to be guided to her room.

Himalayan Mountains 5 years later

Courtney stood before Master Rinpoche, Geshe stood within the chamber as well at his customary spot next to the door. No one would recognize the composed young red head as the same woman who came to the temple 5 years ago. Her blue eyes shined, and a wide smile was on her face. She bowed deeply before the old blind man sitting on his straw mat. She was dressed in a simple white robe, accented with golden yellow highlights along the sleeves, and the bottom, as well as the sash.

You wished to speak with me Master Rinpoche? she said, no trace of hesitation in her voice. It was soft, but confident.

I did Courtney. he answered, Come sit with me for a moment.

She walked over and took another straw mat from the wall, and sat lotus style nest to the ancient looking man.

You time here is done my child. he said as soon as she was sitting beside him.

The calm look slowly faded away, her face looked concerned.

What have I done wrong? she asked.

He laughed a rich baritone that carried throughout the room. His face turned to Courtney's a rare grin of mirth spread across his face.

Dear child, you have done nothing wrong. he said, But, this is not your home. And that is where your destiny awaits you. You knew this day would come.

She nodded, her face sad.

Yes I did. she said quietly, And I know that I am ready. But, I will miss your wise council my friend.

She looked back over her shoulder at Geshe, And your constant tests as well.

She looked back to Master Rinpoche.

I owe you both so much. she said, her voice thick with emotion. I was lost when I came to you Master. You have given me clarity of vision and purpose, as well as unlocking my own powers. I promise to use the gifts you have given me for good.

I know my child, he said a knowing smile crossing his ancient lips. I saw it within you when you showed up her that first day. You have the spark within you Courtney to become a powerful sorceress. But, always you must fight against the darkness that now stains your soul. You have a good heart, I know you will do well.

She nodded to the old man, wiped a tear away and stood up. Home meant back to Paragon City, she knew that it was called the City of Heroes, and she would become one. She already had her name, the first day she arrived, Taboo.

Stryph · 11-18-2010 05:05 PM

((Here's Shepard:

Well that's his full suited version really but that's generally what kind of armor he prowls the nights in on most nights but this one.))

Quote:

Has your character ever traveled outside of the war-walls? If so where and when and what happened to them there?

Part 1: The Maw
[Time: 18:51:12 ; Date: February 10 / Location: Montreal, Quebec / Weather: 12c ; Chill Factor of: -15]

"They say when you're plotting revenge you dig two graves. One for your enemy and one for yourself. All I can tell you right now... is that two just aint going to be enough."

"And where will that end Shepard?! Don't do this. Don't go down that path, I'm begging you. Let the wolf hibernate, until we can bring down the ones truly responsible without the unnecessary blood shed of those having nothing to do with what happened a little over a year ago."

"Matt..." Whispered a soft feminine voice.

His eyelids shifted a bit, body bounced in the confines of the passenger seat. Finally as he opened his eyes he saw glimpses of the city for the first time since landing in the airport. The moment he met his 'taxi' and jumped in, he passed out for what left like a nights-worth but was maybe only an hour. Snow kicked up obscuring most of the view at long distances, blizzards weren't uncommon this time of year but likely the inside of the car was warm enough to make everything seem peaceful. Shifting in his seat, he sat strait up raising to a fully upright position while propping his right elbow into the passenger door's window frame which then he rested his cheek into his corresponding hand.

Vanessa laughed softly, "It's pitch black with two feet of snows-worth, which is still going, and you wear shades."

"I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can, so I can keep track of visions with my eyes..." whispered Matt in a truly polite charming voice with a deep sinister tone hidden behind those words.

She sighed, "You'll have to forgive me, but I've done exactly what you asked Mark to tell me to do. I don't know why you want to get into Jason's Estate but..."

"Ahhh." Matt sighed, "Don't worry about it. I told you, it's an investigation. Jason is trafficking illegal weapons and the NSA requested that I be aided in this operation, you saw the report right?" He turned his head slightly to see her nod while she remained focused ahead on the road. Of course the same report was a fake, he had an alternative reason for being there but simply stating that fact would likely get him kicked to the curb out in the frigid weather.

"Right, well. It just seems... He's given so much for charity foundations, for people in need when leaving their countries and coming here with nothing. How can such a guy become so cruel behind closed doors."

"He's also a former CIA with a history of money laundering, ties of conspiracy, and one hell of a penchant for covering up his tracks." Matt added turning his head fully to her to catch her glimpsing back to him. She shifted, giving her comfortability away. That much wasn't a lie, the man was a former CIA and for the most part hadn't been fired nor retarded; this Johnathon was still in active duty.

The brunette woman took in a deep breath, nodded, and sighed as she shifted in her seat again by wiggling into the cushion of her own seat. Matt was treated to a pleasant display that complimented the woman's lean and slender curves. 'Not half bad at all,' Thought Matt glancing from the corner of his eyes and observing her performance, 'I give it an hour. Mess around and then we'll get to work.'.

Matt's lips parted as his jaws gaped open as he exhaled a large volume of carbon out at the passenger window. Fog blotted a fair bit of area on the window before slowly washing away. He remained incognito while beneath the shades of gray, olive green eyes observed the scenery with what little could be seen. Looming buildings stacked on either ends of the road with the blizzard was flowing on and off, snow clustered in gusts and blew out in a rolled up fist smashing into the car harmlessly. Most of the structures were only housing but occasionally a block would come along with a liquor store and pub, or back-end of a super market. Another five minutes after passing through the housing blocks and they began to enter the market and financial districts.

"There's my apartment." Vanessa said as she drew away her left hand from the wheel and pointed off to his right.

Looking over, Matt brought his head up a little to get a view just before the car pulled into the underground parking garage.

"I'll leave the luggage. Besides, I like this jacket." He tugged at the collar of his black jean jacket.

"I still think you should of brought a tux instead. They're not going to let you just wander around when you don't express the same level of class as the rest of those who will be there." She spoke in trying to be as politely critical on his choice of attire.

"Ch'." Grunted Matt, "Who do you think I am? MI6?" He subsequently placed on a pair of fingerless SWAT gloves just to keep his palms and the back of his hands warm, brushing his pants off as a gust of wind brought in snow from the outside.

"I hate the cold. Ya'know, I really don't enjoy this. You're talking to a guy who deals with average lows of being 60 degrees... sorry 'Fahrenheit'." Matt snickered, "So this drastic change in weather is not a good sense of feel for me." As he shook his head he patted himself off one more final time before giving it a rest and placing both hands into the pockets of his jacket. With Vanessa leading the way, the two headed up into the building.

'And we fade to black...'

Matt followed closely behind the 5'7" woman, maintaining some distance but it didn't take a rocket scientist for her to find out where his mind was wandering. After all he was getting a good view regardless and part of that was her fault to begin with. She wasn't trying to hide anything and she was even caught red-handed in the act of trying to flaunt it off. Of course maintaining some class mannerisms, he had to stow the dessert for later. First things first was the setup, then would come 'playtime'.

[ ...About two hours later / Time: 20:42:07 ]

The den was quiet and dark lit save for the one corner Matt was busy keeping illuminated with the help of the computer screen that had gained his attention for the past ten minutes. Vanessa was in the bathroom constantly rushing between there and her bedroom as she shuffled through clothes and her makeup or jewelery. A change in dress was much needed, for more than just wrinkles. Meanwhile Matt continued to research both Jason Dean and his estate, the possible patrons. The lists were nothing secrete but Vanessa also wasn't lying on the guests dressing for the occasion. This party was for the rich people, probably housing auctions and stock shares.

"You'll have to be my body guard." Vanessa stumbled out of the bathroom attempting to place a pair of high heels onto the soles of her feet.

A few mouse clicks followed and Matt spoke softly, "That's the idea."

"Just... please don't get into any trouble."

[cue: Across the Line ]

She couldn't see his smirk, "Wont make any promises..." And he didn't have to look to her to catch the sense of discomfort that washed over her. "And maybe you were right, a tux would of been nice. Ahhh frack it." Shutting the laptop closed it automatically shut itself down at that point and immediately he went for his own cellphone stowed away into his pant pocket. Time, date, GPS, and battery life were all accounted for. As soon as the cellphone was slide back out of sight, he drew out his sidearm pulling the slide back while simultaneously flicking it's safety to prime the gun. This action alone made Vanessa worried, Matt looked over and canted his head into a shrug, "Don't worry, everything will be fine." Another lie, oh hell would be looking forward to this ones soul.

Matt tucked the FN Five-Seven into a holster under his left arm and out of sight. Of course, security details at the estate were also taken into account. But that's what his research was for, layout of the entire foundation could provide some interesting means of operation while remaining, for the most part, unnoticed.

The two made their way back down into the garage and just like that the car was started and they were back on the road again. With twenty minutes at the least to go, Matt found himself preoccupied with his cellphone once more as he withdrew it and held it out in front of him. The ride was relatively quiet as they headed further North, but that didn't seem to bother Matt so much; he found silence rather soothing... as long as he remained focused and concentrated on a particular task.

Once upon reaching their destination, their car fell in line behind five others. All waiting to pass the checkpoint and find their parking.

"How long have you been working for Mark?" Asked Matt finally breaking the silence as he tucked his phone away.

"Only five years, he's my uncle of course." She replied spotting an understanding nod assuring her that he as well knew this detail. "And as his friend, you can trust me."

He nodded again but drew his attention ahead. 'Lets hope so.', The thought was slightly unnerving.

"Anyways, here we are." Vanessa cleared her throat as the car pulled up to the booth and they were greeted by a man dressed in a full black and thick sweater with a beanie over his head. "Vanessa Cole Madison, and this is my body guard Agent Shepard."

"Sir?"

Every bit of detail was taken into account. Including the amount of 'luggage' they were packing. 'MP5Ks, G36c's... so it's not just some fancy painting collection... not with that kind of eight.' Matt nodded, "Matt Shepard, by the request of the lady here."

"Yes, you're..." He took a second look at the man by ducking low and tilting his head, "Well you'll have to wait in the lobby like the others. We assure you, she will be fine."

Protocol? Or were they expecting her let alone him? Objecting here and now would ruin everything, he would have to find another way. Matt's eyes followed the guard's jutting direction of his chin towards a thick shack with windows but some distance from the entrance to the house. It was still cold but the blizzard had died down, the air becoming motionless. Luckily Matt could already assume and guess the extent of his conditioning due to his experience and training years back.

"Understood." Spoke Matt finally, those eyes ever so deceiving under the pair of gray tinted shades. Vanessa pulled the car forward towards a parking space they were directed to. "Don't worry, I'll just make use of my free time... that's all."

"That's what I'm afraid of, you have a gun and your reason for being here." Vanessa sighed speaking coldly as if expecting the worst.

Reaching over Matt lightly patted her on the thigh once. "You can never be sure how far people are willing to go to keep a secrete." He said in monotone, "And they're fitted to take the Whitehouse, if there's one thing I've learned in my experiences... If you're prepared for war, your not the victim... you're the precursor."

Vanessa was silent and then slowly nodded, "I'm going to go in and set my introductions in order. Try not to draw attention."

Matt smirked but said nothing more than, "I'll behave."

The two exited the vehicle and parted ways shortly after embracing for a friendly gestured hug. What she didn't know is that his hand slipped into her coat's jacket where the keys were and unlocked the vehicle. With the sound of cars passing by, she missed the unlocking the vehicle. The two drew away and separated, both of them were met by escorts while Matt's side of things was less welcoming.

"Follow me sir." Said the gruff male guard, waving his hand in the direction to the shack. "I'll need your weapon." Extending a hand, Matt reluctantly handed over his sidearm staring at it longingly before sighing comically. The guard let out a soft chuckle, "You get it back when you leave."

Showing no resistance, Matt rose his hands up as he moved forward and tugged and straitened the cuffs of his jacket's sleeves. Nodding, "Thank you," He said as the door was opened as he was allowed to walk in at his own accord. Inside, surprisingly enough, the room was warm and cozy. Kind of bright as well due to all the white interior with little black surrounding save for the floor which was in gray tiles. The television's frame was white and there was even a microwave which had black interior. Everything else was white. Couches, sink, probably even the bathroom which was outside and around the corner. He wasn't the only one here as another guard monitoring a set of small televisions stacked onto each other was busy watching the camera feed. But the man who brought Matt in, was the radio correspondent and was taking patrol-duty.

With the television blaring, ten minutes passed. Matt looked from his left and right, taking not of the window shades and judging how much could be seen from outside. Once satisfied he began to make a move, slowly approaching the man sitting down and wrapping one arm around his neck, squeezing tightly to knock the man unconscious. As he struggled for air, Matt watched outside closely from the little cracks in the window blinds. No one's peripheral view crossed their general location. Seeping under the window, Matt pulled the guard back and then used his own belt once unconscious to restrain his hands followed by removing the man's tie to restrain his feet. Last, Matt removed the man's right shoe and sock placing the sock into the man's mouth.

"Pleasant dreams." Muttered Matt, disgusted with the scene of the man in a fetal-like position sleeping. Finally Matt patted the man down and found the keys, cycling through each individual key upon the keyring. Standing up, the composed man made his way to the exit.

He stood there, in the door way and pulled the door closed behind him. Sparring a glance at the door's key cylinder allowed him to narrow down at least one of the three on the keyring. Holding the handle behind him, he noticed one of the guards was beginning to make a pass and possibly looping around. The rest were scattered but all assuming their post with little interest for security detail of the lobby. Controlled breathing prevented him from rushing, he took in a deep breath and exhaled softly. Large volumes of mist exited his mouth appearing as a plume of smoke. One key down and the second went in, met with a satisfied click as he turned the key and then removed it. With fluid action, Matt tossed the key up and over the lobby's roofing before pulling his hand back down and clasping them together in front of his mouth. He blew warm breaths into his hands just as the patrolling guard looked in his direction.

Next was to be expected, the guard walked steadily fast in his direction. Matt tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. With the guard nearing however, this could cause a problem if he tried to go in and reprimand the man on duty. So, Matt took the initiative. Making his way over and stopping before the guard about half way of the parking lot's distance.

"Heh'eh, hey how's it going?" Matt tried to act as cool and friendly as possible. The guard showed little alert but over all didn't seem to mind, despite being curious. "Listen, I'm wondering if you have a smoke. The guy inside..."

"Benjamin, yeah he doesn't smoke. That's why he's inside, he doesn't need to go out. Ha." Pausing the guard took a long look at Matt. Was his guise working? But shortly after the guard dipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a pack which he then released one cig.

Matt nodded, "Much appreciated, thank you." Trying to play out the part as the security guard drew his hands away too soon, Matt proceeded to pat him down and then let out a rather convincing groan. "Ahhh, frack. Left the lighter in the car."

The guard laughed, "Women and expensive cars. If they don't belong to them, they want it. And if it's their own, they don't want 'anybody' touching it." Met with another nod by Matt, the gruff middle aged male patted his own self down and searched for the lighter.

[cue theme: The Bunker]

Just as Matt predicted. The man, out of common courtesy, held out the lighter and shielded any breeze that may distort and kill the flame while he waited for Matt to put the cig's end over the lite. Matt played the part only to quickly swoop a leg over, wrap his left arm and squeeze over both of the guard's forearms, effectively roping around his limbs. And as soon as his elbow locked, his right elbow came up and around smacking the guard in the back of the neck effectively knocking the man out cold.

"Today was the worst day to be a smoker, you should of quit." Matt whispered and then patted him down quickly reaching for his sidearm. "I'm taking my gun back too, thank you very much....." Matt slid the gun behind him into the confines of his belt buckle that held it in place looking back down and added, "Dick."

Deep intake of breath and a controlled exhale, Matt looked around from side to side to see if anyone noticed. They were still in the open so he had to get this next man out of sight as quickly as possible. Matt wrapped both hands under the unconscious guard's arm pits and pulled, sliding the limp body out of sight and into a corner near Vanessa's card. This had to be fast, Matt opened the driver door and popped the trunk and then went around to pull out his belongings before placing the body into it and slamming the truck door down. Now out of sight, Matt held in front of him a suitcase which he quickly opened to reveal it's contents.

Bullet proof vest, a set of sonar goggles, pair of jagged curved knives, and a few extra magazines. Then he proceeded to remove his jacket and replace it with the vest only to throw the jacket back on. A over the shoulder small back-pack came on next which he took the cellphone from his jacket's pocket and stored it into a little clear plastic compartment over his right pectoral muscle. The two blades were placed into sheaths from the small-pack now resting against the small of his back. He was ready to move, popping the trunk open again to stow the empty brief case inside before closing the trunk once more; maintaining relative quiet actions by lightly shutting the trunk rather than slamming it.

He moved, quickly and quietly out of sight. Fixing his sonar goggles, two ocular lenses were weaved around with the turn of his head. Matt's primary goal was to get out of the snow since black things tended to stand out over white surfaces. From his perspective, objects blipped and emerged into view as a single frequency sound wave spread out from the goggle's vicinity, effective echo location. Once the frequency found an object and bounced back, it developed the image of whatever was within his peripheral view. Fairly new technology but a practice as old as the first ecosystem established.

Matt remained out of sight for the most part, using every bit of cover to hide his presence from patrolling guards still active and operating on a circuit. Staying low and crouched, the black wolf prowled the early night with plenty of time to 'play'. Drawing out his sidearm, he pulled the slide back after clicking the safety to see the red button at the back of the weapon telling him the weapon was ready for fire.

One guard made a pass too close for comfort and Matt moved quick to 'remove' the stranger. Slamming his elbow into the man's neck ensured that he had no way to call for help, only to be met with a concussive blow to the back of the head with a full fisted back hand. Removing him only paved the way for the next unfortunate soul, which Matt could actually use.

Prowling foward and creeping up to the next guard, as he stowed his sidearm away bellow his left arm, Matt reached up and grabbed the man's left hand holding it out in front of him and twisting it to the verge of snapping. Just before the man could muster enough courage to scream for help, a sharp blade lightly poked at his jugular. "Tell me what I need to know and I'll let you live."

The guard coughed to clear his fear filled throat, "O-ok."

"Jason is inside, I need details on the type of escort he's having eating out of the palm of his hands."

"T-they're tough guys, bunch of them. Five or six of them. Special Agents, not like us former bouncers who managed to ace target practice. P-pretty freaky dudes if you ask me but n-nothing terribly secrete about them. J-just a bunch of mercenaries who know how to fight and are payed well to watch his back."

"So then he doesn't actually get to the floor."

"N-no, he doesn't. R-rarely does he meet with associates unless if it's in his office."

"Thank you for your time. Sleep tight."

"W-wha-wait!"

The man was immediately choked unconscious as Matt stepped about and repositioned the crook of his arm completely around his neck, squeezing just enough to refrain from dislocating the vertebra but blocking off sufficient amount of air intake to render the body limp. Matt tucked the body out of sight behind a planter and continued to move, stowing his knife away and withdrawing his pistol again.

'Bunch of mercs huh? Can't be Malta, not directly. That would run the risk of exposure too quickly, but they could be on their payroll. Either way, I got you now Jason.' His thoughts were bitter, borderline feral and deranged. He was actually growling as he thought the words. But he moved forward still, rolling and trudging through snow yards while trying to maintain being unseen. The actual building was up ahead with most of the outside having been done was just the 'kiddy-park'. The only way to go now was up, as he was on the outside parameter. One level up would get him to a window he could slip in from and then maybe sneak his way to the elevator to raise up the next set of ten floors. Or the stairs, in the event the former was compromised.

The building itself was squared while multiple sections gave way for roof patrols on various floors exposed to the outside. Jason's floor was a floor above the last remaining balcony. No doubt the presidential suit was at the top, that's instinctively where he had to go.

Matt climbed up, using a planter as a stepping stool and then a pipe that he could climb. Wrapping both hands around the circumference of the pipe, he could feel his finger tips developing a tingly sensation. Maybe thirty minutes and frost bite would set in, as long as he got inside and stayed warm he could build enough tolerance for when he had to go out again. Continuing to rise up, Matt hoisted himself up with one pull of an arm at a time while pressing the soles of his feet into the rough exterior of the wall. The window was just a foot away and once he got up high enough he reached over and gently push at the window but just as it clicked and the glass began to slide, the flash of a light beamed on the surface.

"Thought I heard something."

The voice was soft, muffled by the surface area of the walls that helped trap the noise from inside. The over abundance of music beat within the walls, Matt could feel it in his toe tips.

A moment passed and the window slid open, Matt made an effort to lower himself just to keep him strait out of the patrolling guard's sight as the man looked out the window. As soon as the guard's attention span was momentarily disturbed, Matt reached up grabbed the guard by the collar and pulled. The guard was removed from the floor and tossed over possibly falling to his death, simultaneously Matt hoisted himself over and into the building shutting the window as quietly as he could. As he entered Matt immediately rolled to the nearest light switch and flicked it off so that darkness befell the small room he got into.

The former guard's radio was ripped off during the tussle and slipped to the floor, one amazing factor of Matt's constant stroke of luck. Lady Death was having fun with him, enjoying the tenacity and letting him catch a break. It was just enough for Matt to hear the transmission of the former guard's partner drawing concern.

"John. Yo John, pick up." The door immediately swung open in a controlled and slow fashion as the next guard quickly spotted the detached radio by the window seal. This time Matt got a good look at the attire, merc was definitely right for these guys. They were not citizens and a familiar symbol that Matt recognized was patched on the man's shoulder. They weren't Malta, but a splinter group. "What the fu..." Matt moved out from his cover of shadow slammed the barrel of his Five-Seven into the neck of of the guard, firing the trigger simultaneously and caused the guard to fall to his knees in shock. There was relatively no loud bang, just a muffled slam of a hammer to a round. Matt slid out and closed the door behind him, crouching low as soon as he entered the next room and moved forward. Couches, vase platforms, chairs, and various other structures dotted the center of every room which provided ample cover to hide from the unsuspecting.

END of Part 1

((I want to write more but want to conserve that energy for later as it'll get probably progressively more confusing due to lack of understanding on the character and who he is, why he does what he does, and what all happened. Much will hopefully be explained next without giving too much away, he's meant to be a well guarded and mysterious individual anyways

))

Lady_Cyrsei · 11-19-2010 07:39 AM

((A truly great read, I wish I had any understanding what so ever for high powered rifles etc but alas my own fire arms experience is only in hunting rifles. I cant wait to read more on Shepherd so keep up the good work and Mind once again great job on Courtney, <3 Tibetan Monks! ))