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Default The Cult Of Assassins. {RP} - 02-19-2011, 10:44 AM

Rules.

1. If you have never RPed with me before, then you MUST PM me with your intro for approval. Do NOT post in the RP until you have been approved. If however you have RPed with me, then feel free to join.

2. Obey the main RPG forum rules. No Mary Sues or Gary Stus. Vampires and werewolves are allowed; absolutely NO Meyerpires or Meyerwolves or you will be kicked.

3. This is an M rated RP so be prepared for some violence. Please don't join if you are young and/or overly sensitive.

4. There are no character forms, so you must introduce the character within your intro. You can have more than one character if you wish. Please try to have at least one character within the Assassins.

5. Try to post at least 2-3 sentences per post, m'kay?

~~~

The Assassins were an order that existed from around 1092 to 1265. Posing a strong military threat to authority within the Persian territories, the Assassins captured and inhabited many mountain fortresses. The name 'Assassins' was originally derogatory and used by their adversaries during the Middle Ages. Preserved within European sources, they were depicted as trained killers, responsible for the systematic elimination of opposing figures. The origins of the Assassins trace back to just before the First Crusade around 1080. It is difficult to find out much information about the origins of the Assassins because most early sources are either written by enemies of the cult or based on legends. Most sources dealing with the order’s inner working were destroyed with the capture of Alamut, the Assassin's headquarters. The first Grand Master founded the cult for his own political and personal gain and to also exact vengeance on his enemies. The Assassins were generally young in age giving them the physical strength and stamina which would be required to carry out these murders. However, physical prowess was not the only trait that was required to be an Assassin. To get to their targets, the Assassins had to be patient, cold, and calculating. They were generally intelligent and well read because they were required to possess not only knowledge about their enemy, but his or her culture and their native language. They were trained by their masters to disguise themselves, sneak in to enemy territory and perform the assassinations instead of simply attacking their target outright. In short, the Assassins were feared.

That was then. This is now, in the twenty first century, and the Assassins cult is being singlehandedly revived by a new Grand Master. He does not reveal his name, but instead uses his title to strike terror into his enemies and respect into his followers. The Grand Master's motives are similar to those of the first Grand Master. He wishes for revenge on his enemies, and also for personal gain. The Grand Master carries a grudge against the United States of America. He betrayed the country at one point and was forced to flee for his life. Now, his twisted plan is simple. He will direct his Assassins to murder political figures in other countries, leaving false evidence that points towards America as having ordered the assassinations. This will, he hopes, prompt the countries to declare war on the United States, thus completing his vengence. The Grand Master does not care a jot about the lives of civilians who will be at risk if his plan comes to fruition. All he cares about is getting revenge on his old country, and also gaining as much riches as he can get hold of. The Grand Master has a core few of Assassins on his pay roll. Some are vampires; others are trained fighters, mercenaries or bounty hunters. All he asks is that they be skilled in killing. The Assassins will be paid their blood money when they bring the Grand Master proof that they have carried out their task.

World war is threatened; nowhere is safe. There is but one chance that exists to prevent this. A small group of people who have learned of the cult have come together to try to work together to stop the Assassins and bring down the Grand Master. They are vastly outnumbered; there are Assassins from all walks of life and from different countries, so their task will be difficult and sometimes, dangerous. Yet it is the only way to save the world from being rent with war. They must put aside all petty arguments and squabbles in order to work together for the greater good. The Grand Master has a weapon worse than nuclear bombs, worse than weapons of mass destruction... he has secrecy, and he has highly trained killers who carry out his every wish. It will not be easy to stop this man from plunging the world into a horrendous world war which can only end in the destruction of everything that is good. It will be dangerous; once the Grand Master learns that there is a plot afoot to thwart his plans, he will stop at nothing to stop it and to get rid of the group opposing him. But it has to be done; for the good of everyone living in the free world.


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Default 02-19-2011, 11:00 AM

The base of operations of the Grand Master of the cult of Assassins was eerily dark, save for a ribbon of light just visible peeping underneath a door. Inside the room, the Grand Master sat behind a desk, his greying hair brushed severely back, as he looked ahead at one of his assassins who stood in front of the desk. This assassin was a vampire, and one of the Grand Master's best, despite the various difficulties that arose.

Arkady Orlav had been turned into a vampire during his time as one of Stalin's agents. He had, after Stalin's death, been forced to flee Russia due to the fact that he had made many enemies in the government and his protection had evaporated after Stalin had died. Arkady had been chosen for the mission of assassinating the Russian leader for the basic reason that he would not stand out in the Moscow government building. He had performed the task, despite the fact that he had sworn never to return to Russia again. The chink of money had the effect of making him abandon his resolves...

*next day*

In a sterile laboratory in an American city, a scientist was sitting at a table reading the paper. Her name was Dark Star, and she was a tall woman, with a slightly plump figure that she never the less managed to carry off well, albiet in a long white coat. Star laid the paper down abruptly, after reading the top story which was the news that the Russian leader had been found dead in his government office that morning, drained of blood, and with American flags wrapping his body. The Russians had already given several ominous mutters about reperations from the United States, but Star did not think that America was in any way to blame for this assassination. It was far too similar to a murder that had taken place two months earlier in France.

The French leader had also been found dead in his office, his body wrapped in American flags. The only difference was that the French leader had died of a stab to the heart and a throat slit from ear to ear. All other details were identical, and it smacked of a conspiracy. Star stood up decisively. Time to call together a few likeminded people, and try to put a stop to this as soon as possible before America found itself embroiled in a war it had never intended.


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Default 02-23-2011, 11:14 AM

A very tall, very dark-skinned, heavyset but very curvy girl in a pair of jeans, white sneakers and a maroon tanktop wandered down a meticulously clean hallway lit by faintly buzzing flourescent lights. Her brow was furrowed, her full "bubble" lips pursed as she examined a crudely drawn-out map, trying to work her way to the room the scientist had told her about. After getting turned around a few times and double-checking her route whenever she thought she'd gotten back on track, she finally thought she'd made it to the right spot.

This girl, Omarosa Jatta, was an exchange student from the Cote D'Ivoire, and she was majoring in biological sciences. Normally, she was a very up-front, confident and slightly nosy girl, but today she was quiet and quite nervous; she'd never been here before, and she hardly knew what to think about the woman who'd invited her. Omarosa, or, Rose, as she would have it, bit her lip and lifted her large bag that contained her notes and materials for a project she'd been working on. Supposedly, the other scientist had taken an interest in Rose's work, which Rose find flattering; too bad Rose had no idea who this scientist was, though she'd seemed pretty legitimate. Did I make a mistake coming here? She thought to herself.

It had happened just the other day, when Rose was headed to the college labs to test her theory; she'd bumped into a woman when crossing the street, and her notes went flying. Apologising profusely, Rose had scrambled to get her sheets before they were trampled or blown away, and the other woman had, too. Except the other lady paused and seemed to be reading the papers with some interest.

The tall, dark blonde woman lifted her blue eyes from Rose's papers and introduced herself as a scientist named Dark Star. Evidently, she was impressed by Rose's work. Rose had been shocked, especially when the scientist continued by inviting Rose to her own lab.

Now, having made it and followed the strange science-lady's instructions exactly, Rose was considering turning around and leaving. But she sucked up her courage, lifted her large, coffee-colored hands and knocked on the lab door.

Only thing to do now was wait.

~~

Deep within the heart of a certain base, a woman who could still be considered young by many carefully shut the door to a lab behind her. She combed through her shining, golden hair with her fingers and put it up into a ponytail, then donned a white lab-coat over her powder blue tee-shirt and jeans. She sighed as she slipped on a pair of purple latex gloves, wishing for what seemed the millionth time that she could have access ot any other color but purple; she looked like that cartoon scientist, Dexter, like this.

But there were, of course, more pressing matters at hand; she had a deadline to complete her research and, minor irritations like the color of her gloves aside, there was someone she needed up be better than; her d@mn goody-goody, slightly anti-social cousin, Dark Star.

The woman's name was Angel Tears, though she introduced herself strictly as Angel. She was a tall woman who might have ended up a little plump and pale like her cousin but instead strictly kept track of her diet and excercise routine and ended up with a nice hourglass figure, as well as tanning some. Her eyes were grey-green, and everything about her outward appearance was polished to perfection; skin clear of blemishes, nails polished and cuticals kept in check, eyebrows meticulously plucked, laser treatment on her all the places she didn't want hair to grow, golden hair conditioned and straightened. Angel was, in effect, Star's exact opposite; Barbie-pretty and peppy on the outside, cold-hearted and cruel as a viper on the inside.

Angel hummed to herself as she got out her materials, knowing full well the sort of carnage her research was going to help inflict and not caring a jot so long as she got what she wanted. In this case, she wanted to outshine her cousin, and the Grand Master had promised her that she'd get ample opportunity for that. Angel was no fool, and knew that the Master was essentially playing her for her need to outdo her cousin, but didn't care too much; he provided her with the lab, the materials, for free; all she had to do was meet his deadlines, really.

All in all, it was a pretty good d@mn deal... well, except for the lack of men to sleep around with, of course.


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Default 02-24-2011, 12:38 AM

The girl sat alone, awaiting further instructions. From a distance she looked ‘normal’, average height, fair hair, she was perhaps a little on the thin side, but not enough to attract attention, or to be called unhealthy. She focused on the city lights shining outside, a blur of gold, blue and silver. But it wasn’t the lights that gave her the strange feeling of satisfaction she felt. It was knowing that here she could live in the shadows, unnoticed. She enjoyed that. She didn’t like questions, but questions only got asked if people began to become suspicious. Here they were too busy for that. They’d forgotten about what could hide in the shadows a long time ago, either that or they just wanted to ignore it. Either way, it suited her.

Karin Bakke turned her head slightly as she heard voices outside, two humans discussing someone called Lauren. Hearing was one of the pros that came with being a werewolf, along with smell and a decent means of disguise. But with every pro came a con and with every con came a certain weakness. Their voices faded as they made their way further away, leaving Karin to stare out once again at the city. Shadows, fear, death, they were the only things you could truly count on, and all three walked hand in hand…

- - -

The thirty-something year old man leant forward, picking at the remains of his pasta salad. was reading the same article in the same newspaper as Dark Star although he was sitting in leather chair facing a polished wooden desk and he was wearing a suit that looked as though it cost around the same amount as both these pieces of furniture put together. Axel Wayman was a politician not that that meant anyone knew his name. He was one of the underrated souls who ran around picking up after the big names and right now he had a fair bit to pick up. The assassinations were getting more brutal by the week, and so far America had done very little about it. In actual fact the USA had been working on plans to strengthen their global connections. All these plans had now been abolished.
He sighed as he read over the details one more time, it had been brutal and he didn’t like it. He was far too patriotic to like it. Whoever was organizing this had some serious grudges. He made a mental note to make a few calls later and see what he could find out. Right now his first priority was his next meeting which was in precisely ten minutes. He pulled s small mirror out of his desk, he looked fine, nothing was stuck in his teeth…in fact he was doing well for his age, he would go as far as to say he still looked a few years younger than he was. With a few final adjustments to his tie he left the office, closing the door behind him. The newspaper however was still open on his desk and the article was still there in the back of his mind.


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Default 02-24-2011, 07:59 AM

Star was about to start making calls when she heard a knock on the lab door. It would have to wait awhile, she thought to herself, thinking of the girl who was due to start in her lab as an intern. This was just as important in its own way. Star walked to the door, thinking that at the very least this girl Rose had to be better in the lab than her grandson Damien. He didn't seem to like the sterile atmosphere of the lab and would only help if he absolutely had to.

Damien was the son of Azhdeha, who Star had created in the lab many years ago when she herself had been a young girl working in a lab for the first time. She often regretted what she had done; still, without Azhdeha there would be no Damien... and Star wouldn't know of the latest threat to America. Azhdeha had told her that they were behind the French leader's assassination and it made sense that they were behind the Russian' leader's death, too. Star could expect no help from Azhdeha, who'd gone off by himself, but there were other people she could count on for assistance, like Axel, for example. She would give him a call as soon as she possibly could, Star was thinking as she opened the door.
~~~

The Grand Master looked at his latest assassin carefully. Despite everything, he still did not trust Arkady fully; after all, the man had been raised in poverty and had worked under Stalin and could therefore still hold those views. Communists were by their very nature the enemies of capitalists, and the Grand Master planned to by his efforts to become very rich. To test Arkady's loyalty to the cause, he had assigned him the assassination of the Russian leader, and altho Arkady had indeed carried it out, he would still be keeping a close watch on him.

In this, the Grand Master was thinking along the wrong lines. Arkady had no love for the regime that he had worked for; he had been a vampire long enough to lose any human alliances that he had once had. Arkady had been turned by a vampire girl named Sapphire, who was English and visiting the Soviet Union. He had wanted the power, and also the ability to use his powers to help the Stalinist cause; Arkady was an agent and often questioned suspects. With his new psychic abilities, he'd know if a suspect was telling the truth about knowing nothing, and could force them to confess if they were not. Success breeds enemies. With these successes, Arkady had gotten several enemies, none of which who dared to show their hands while Stalin was alive, but who poured out of the woodwork once he was dead. Arkady had had to flee Russia for the UK; he had no love for America, and this was still the case, so he was perfectly happy for America to take the blame for his killing.


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Default 02-24-2011, 08:33 AM

Rose knew nothing about Star's strange 'child' or his son, of course. Upon seeing seeing the scientist, Rose put on her best smile, her pearly whites in steep contrast with her black-brown skin. "'Memeber me? I showed up on time... were you busy, or anything?"

Rose was nervous; she'd never interned before, and her English was a bit sketchy at times. She could only hope that this fairly young scientist would take this into account, since Star chose a foreign intern who had an accent as obvious as Rose's was.

~~

Angel was impatient; everything was ready to go, but there was no test subject. How could she record any results or setbacks and therefore modify her current serum if there was no test subject?

But, wait, there was one; that Russian dude... what was his name? Arkady? Well, he was a vampire... he could be her test subject. Too bad 'Kady was meeting with the Master at the moment.

Once again impatient, Angel waited; as soon as Arkady was out of Master's office, she would pounce.



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Default 07-15-2011, 08:15 PM

"Angel, Angel," Karin nudged the woman to no avail. Feeling slightly pressured she reverted back to her native language. "Du neeed att vakna, vill du dö du dum kvinna?

Translation: You need to wake up, would you die you stupid woman?


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Default 07-16-2011, 08:18 AM

"...nu är du här med Caramelldansen!" she sang, responding to Karin while still half-out. Her eyelids fluttered a little before she groaned and opened them. "Oh, God, I feel like Angel Fondue."


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Default 07-16-2011, 07:46 PM

"No offense," Karin said, "but you're not looking too great either. What the hell were you trying to do?"


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Default 07-16-2011, 07:53 PM

"I was running experiments... Diego pounded on the door, made me jump... there was an accident..." Angel said.


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