Ovyah meets her new Master, Sebastian Shaw

Sebastian Shaw stepped into the cramped hotel room's main area, fresh from a shower, sliding into a pair of black dress pants as he went to open the door. The cheap material chafed, a far cry from the silk he had gotten used to in his days of being the Black King of the Hellfire Club, as did this meager hotel room. He had found himself living in less than luxury since Emma Frost, his former lover, had paralyzed, dethroned and imprisoned him, taking his title of Black King. If he hadn't had several contingency plans in place for just such an emergency, he'd still be held captive in some nameless cell.

As it were, his back up Virgin Island accounts had held just enough money to pay a team of superpowered mercs enough to free him, keep him clothed and fed under an assumed name while on the run and most vitally, pursue what everyone else had said was a fool's errand.

The Lamp of Ovyah.

The only soul who knew of his location was the team of researchers he'd been paying a small fortune to pursue the fabled lamp. He'd initially funded their search under an assumed name because he didn't want to be associated with the shame of hunting for what seemed to be a child's fantasy. It turned out that it was one of the only schemes to survive Frost's brutal takeover of the Hellfire Club as a result.

Shirtless, long black hair wet and in disarray, he opened the door and found the rail-thin form of the head archeologist, Marissa Marx, carrying a large crate with great effort.

With a small grunt, he wrested the crate from her trembling arms and dropped it on a nearby bed.

"Is this it?" he growled, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Ah, yes, it is." Melissa said as she stepped inside and closed the door. A grimace on her face made it clear how much she disliked Shaw's both lack of courtesy and a shirt but Shaw cared little for such things. "And no one has made physical contact with it, per your stipulations for founding our research. Although, honestly, I don't believe that the supposed magical properties are anything but a myth."

"What you believe means very little to me, Doctor. Only the truth of this item and whether or not said truth will lead to me being very happy or very angry."

With an angry grunt, he pulled off the wooden crate's lid, tenpenny nails scattering as he did so. Dr. Marx let out a small yelp and backed against a wall. Until now, Shaw had avoided displayed his superhuman strength gained via kinetic energy in front of her out of caution, but regardless of the result she would no longer be something he'd worry about going forwards.

"I hope for your sake that this works, Marx."

He grabbed the seemingly innocuous bronze lamp in a midst of straw and began to rub it vigorously. No more than a few seconds passed until a glittering cascade of iridescent smoke belched out from the lamp's only opening, swirling around the room until slowly coalescing into a human form across from Shaw and a stunned Marx.

"Ah, it feels so good to be free again!" a low, sultry voice purred as the smoke began melding into flesh . . . and what flesh it was!

To Shaw, it was like looking at Emma Frost, only more so . . . an improvement upon perfection.

She had all of Emma's fantastic curves and long, honey blonde hair but more so. She stood taller than Emma with longer, leaner legs, leading to wider hips, a thinner waist and a taut stomach. The only things that covered this gorgeous vision's body were lengths of sheer, white silk and gold chains, a short shift whispering between her legs and a tiny sheet accentuating rather than hiding her huge, proudly jutting breasts with obviously thick, pink nipples and areola against her smooth, milky white skin. Her face also held Emma's haughty beauty but with the same exaggeration in spots. Her lips were almost comically full, pouty beyond the original Emma's allowances for cosmetic improvement, and her face had a certain exotic tinge to it that only added to the otherwise perfect vision of blonde Nordic loveliness - a faint Asian tint to her eyes which were a vivid purple in contrast to Emma's sky blue. She could easily be mistaken for Emma Frost's sister, albeit a younger, more exotic sister to be sure.

The vision stretched itself like a cat after a long sleep, the silk whispering against her skin as she did so, smiling hungrily.

"Mmm! And what a body to return to flesh into! The color of a cloud with hair like sunlight - how pretty and new! Hello, Master. My name is Ovyah and we're going to have ever so much fun together!"