In The Eye of The Collector (Closed, started, seeking Co-GM)

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So, we gonna start anytime soon or...?

So, we gonna start anytime soon or...?

yeah wasn't gonna start at 4?

I guess until we start Landon is looking over the travel ledger for the names of his friends and family.

((Yeah, I'm getting tired of waiting for people to respond. I'll get back to them when they get back to me.))

Chapter Prologue

He watched over the place like a father looking at his newborn baby through an infirmary for the first time. However, it was not joy that held him, but rather a grim sense of anticipation. His friends, his colleagues, his love, were all in places he couldn't find or get to on his own. It was for this, he cursed his lack of superhuman or mystical abilities or hi-tech gadgetry.

But, at the same time he could curse every deaf ear his warnings fell upon. The confident look one such colleague gave him when he dismissed his worries as more of his baseless conspiracy theories.

Anyone who managed to receive and heed his message came here and the building began to swell with refugees. It was their little hideaway under the sand, their safehaven. "But for how long?" he would wonder to himself. After all, Africa didn't offer that much to the rest of the world. That was the only thing that kept The Collector's Grand Four from sending its massive army here. But, it didn't offer much comfort; it would be a matter of time before those carriers were on their doorstep, if only to collect more land to control.

The man without a face sighed... "God damnit, Clark..." He whispered to himself.

no, this can't be...i thought they were right behind me. he said out loud as he could find no familiar names or faces.

(((OOC: don't forget to set the game to closed)))

The desert sun blazed sharp on his face, his hair whipping with the wind, the jet black helicopter racing over the haze.

John Vek had been travelling for the past two days, emergency funds expended, covert transport arrangements made, slipping out of the encroaching armies towards this desert stronghold.

"How far now? it all looks the fucking same" John screamed over the roar of the wind

"Not too far now, 20 minutes maximum, we weren't followed but I am going to guess they have had satellite lock for a good two hours now." The pilot yelled back, barely turning.

The helicopter neared the destination, it would have been visible if it had been on the surface but it showed up clearly enough on the windscreens HUD markers, almost over it now the pilot began to slow and descend, turning to John he yelled "Where should we land? there might not be much time, we're going to have to head back almo...."

"Never mind about all that crap, I'm jumping." John said, staring down at the yellow sea.

"You're what? we only have the emergency chutes and we haven't got time to...."

He jumped, tie flapping violently, the sand and the heat approaching he spread out his arms.
"I really do like the sand" He thought, smiling.

Closing his eyes he pulled a dense cloud of sand up from the surface which spread itself around him like a cloak, slowing his descent. He swooped down, angling straight for the centre of the complex he came almost to a complete stop, 20 feet over the sand then releasing the cloak he dropped straight down, arms by his side. The sand moved aside easily, the stone less easily, loud crunching sounds emanating from the ground as the hole formed. Wind whipped his ears, the sound changing suddenly as he went underground. With a loud thump he landed amongst a group of refugees, straightening his suit he said
"Hello, who is in charge around here and where can I get some fucking water?"

"Oh god..."

Buddy flew as fast he could and yet, the flight he'd taken from a nearby eagle wasn't going to be enough. He was only delaying the inevitable.

"First I lose my family, and now these bastards are on me."

The heat was something Dragon believed he could survive... Until today. The locals-at least those of which that could speak english anyway-gave him a map of the Nubian desert and advice not to travel there on foot. He could have rented a motorbike, but he only had a debit card and the town lacked atms.

So, he decided to try something he thought wouldn't do in a long time. He began to tap into his Qi and ignited a flame under his feet and used it as make-shift propulsion to make him glide along the sands. Unfortunately, the whipping sands kept hitting him in the face, hence Dragon had to constantly ascend until they couldn't hit him.

He sighed to himself, the very thing bringing him here was a page right from his father's book. Whoever this guy was, the fact that he mentioned Dragon's father was an ominous sign. In time, he began to reach the settlement. And thank god too, his Qi was running low. He stopped and tread the rest of the way.

He stopped at the entrance where a man greeted him.

"Hello, sir." Said the man.

"Right, who's in charge here?"

The sun bleached the already white bones of his skeleton crew as they marched to their destination. The necromancer sat up on the shoulder of his largest minion cleaning his chainsaw lost in thought. Simply thinking of all the undead roaming the world now in his wrath but he knew he couldn't kill the collective by himself. Oh, no. He needs the last remaining heroes of this world and when the time is right he would resurrect his master, "The" Evil Wizard.

Chuckling to himself as he noticed a few random "flying" people in the distance closing in on the location to meet. Then it donned on him the living don't react well to skeletons. In a wave of his hand he un-summoned his minions in a flash of purple smoke and groaned at the feeling of the weight of his armor. Its been a long time since he socialized with living creatures without turning them into zombies and he scowled at that fact.

"BAH! To much rides on this for me to screw it up."

He unfolded his wings and continued his journey.

Drake was tired. Very tired. A message had come right after Collective goons tried to kill him, telling him to get to Africa. One shoddy bank loan later (all the money, unfortunately, spent) and he had gotten to South Africa without a problem. From there he had traveled to the Nubian desert, just as the message had instructed. He did not know what he would find, or even if he would find it.

"This place is huge. It's a desert. What do I do? Knock on the sand and ask if I could come in?" He said allowed.

He had chosen a random direction when he set out into the desert. The message wasn't very clear on exactly where he should go. But so far the path he picked had been good to him. There was an oasis every dozen or so miles so he was not thirsty. Probably following an underground stream. He thought. Then he realized the implications. He was on the right path!

He kept walking until he saw a village - though it looked more like a shanty town - in the distance. He broke into a run and saw two men at what appeared to be a front gate.

"Hey!" He shouted out to them. He jogged up to them, sweating. Now he was thirsty. He got there just in time to hear one man ask the other who was in charge.

It didn't take long for an attendant to come to John.

"Mr. Vek, you're expected in the office." The attendant greeted. "Please come with me."
Meanwhile, at the entrance...

"Mr. Sheffield, please come this way." Said the man at the door.

Dragon arched an eyebrow, very few people knew to call him that and he wondered if it would be good for his actual name to be floating around. Then bunker was somewhat dark, save for the lights hanging from the ceiling. There were many people inside, moving about shipping crates like so many ants.

Dragon was brought to a waiting room outside of an office where he was asked to sit down and wait.

Drake, feeling a bit ignored, followed the men into the waiting room. Seeing 'Mr. Sheffield' sit, Drake walked over and sat down next to him. "Mr. Sheffield, I'm Drake. Am I in the right place?"

Dragon turned to look at the person next to him. He shrugged. "I would assume so. So, what's your story?"

"To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure why I was called here. Some guys came to me, wanted me to join some sort of project, which I refused. They tried to kill me. I got away. Next thing I know, I find an envelope in the police station I went to to report what happened. It's got my name on it. I open it up, and it tells me to come to Africa for. . . something. I'm not sure. All I know is that I'm really, really angry that my country is under control of some freak with powers that thinks he can bully his way into our lives. I haven't had any contact with my friends, my family. . . I'm a very, very angry man." Drake spoke with his fists so tight his knuckles were turning white.

"I'm angry that there are people in this world with powers that seek to destroy everything that we have worked so hard to achieve. And while I don't know why I'm here, I will most definitely get some answers."

A cloaked troop carrier landed outside the meeting place. It was about the size of a small bus and the thrusters were surprisingly quiet as it made contact with the ground. The back ramp opened and a metal sphere the size of a human head painted red with a screen on one side came floating out. On the screen was an image of Victor Zaitsev's face. The drone floated over to the collection of outstanding figures and Zaitsev's deep voice came from a speaker inside the drone.

"I am Victor Zaitsev, head of the Order of the Russian Star. I am here to negotiate an agreement with this so called 'resistance'."

Victor's troops were met by a small group of men. They were armed with some scavaged weapons, AK-47's and one of them had an old revolver on them.

"Mr. Zaitsev." The one with the revolver addressed. "Please come with us, we are currently waiting for the others to arrive in the meeting room."


Dragon glanced at the young man beside him and shrugged.

"You'd be surprised what's out there, y'know." He said. "But, at any rate, I'm not surprised something like this would happen, it just makes me curious as to how. I've heard some rumors about Yujiro and Justice, and maybe something about Mickey Mouse, but wasn't that robot scrapped back in the eighties...?" He paused a moment to offer his hand. "I'm Dragon, by the way."

Drake sighed. He shook Dragon's hand. "I'm Drake Williams, high school graduate extraordinaire."


The video-drone floated after the leader and entered the meeting room where it then hovered stationary inside. The feed on the screen turned to an image of the Russian flag as Zaitsev (presumably) turned his attention to other matters, waiting for the meeting to start.

John followed the attendant, still shaking sand from his clothes. Although the sand was a great tool it annoyed him that there were certain components of the sand here he couldn't manipulate, he'd have to learn the feel of this stuff too, had been a while since he last had to learn a new rock.

He walked in the waiting room and stood next to the odd looking couple already there, somewhere off in the distance he heard a heavy russian voice, he ignored it, smiled and sat.

"I'm John, John vek how do you do?" He said offering a hand to both of them in turn.

Drake looked up from his conversation with Dragon, and breathed a sigh of relief. After Sputnik decided to come in, he was worried more freaks would be joining his company. He shook Vek's hand strongly. "Nice to meet you. I'm Drake. One of us is going to have to change." Drake said, nodding to Mr. Vek's suit, chuckling.

"Do you know why we're here? What's the situation like in the US?"

"What's the situation like in the US?"

The screen flipped back to the feed of Zaitsev's head.

"All of our reports indicate that the United States has fallen completely to the Collective. Their military has been crushed and their arrogant government knocked from it's perch straight intothe hole they've been digging for the last 30 years."

Drake turned his head quickly to the screen.

"And Russia, Mr. . .?"

"I am Victor Zaitsev, current head of the Order of the Russian Star and Grand Russian Military Commander. I am upholding the Motherland's boarder against the Collective, with the help of my communist brothers and sisters. The resources they gained from conquering China has given them what they need for a prolonged conflict. But they will eventually be crushed by the might of Russia." His voice was cold and confident. The statement may have been arrogant but he spoke like he was listing facts.

"I thought you looked familiar. I didn't realize that this was a meeting of two-bit dictators." Drake said, cracking a smirk. He didn't like bullies. "Tell me, how does it feel to be tucked away safe while actual "Heroes of the Glorious Revolution" are fighting to defend their homeland."

"I do my share on the battlefield, as well as everywhere else. You can criticize all you like, but the fact is that I have more to offer than any of you, even with so much of my resources tied up in the war. Ahh, I would love to continue this discussion, but I have an urgent report on the Collective movements in South America."

With that, the screen was once again showing the Russian flag.

"I thought he'd never leave," Drake crossed his arms and looked back to Vek. "Do you know why we're here?"

Tradx was missed the city streets. He found city life more appealing than the country side and people questioned his walking a bit less. In fact, people in Chicago questioned very few things about Tradx and he liked that about the city.

This desert on the other hand...not quite as fun. Tradx was hopping at max speeds, going more than the speed of sound in order to reach his destination faster because screw sand. There was more than one occasion where he thought he might slip on the sand. He had to stop himself abruptly as he reached the hole in the ground he was supposed to reach.

Tradx had to brace himself as the wind he had brought alongside himself had caused a mini sandstorm and if he did not get inside soon, his feathers might be weighed down and a sandy hat was not a fun hat!

"Hey! Hey I am talking to you guys! You sent me a message or something. What the hell do you want? I am a busy grothank!"

After that moment, the door opened. A man came out, wearing a sort of business sword under a blue trenchcoat and matching fedora. But most noticably, he looked as though his face was missing.

"Good day, I'm glad you gentlemen could make it, but we seem to be missing a few people." He greeted while looking around. He opened the door wider and ushered everyone in, "Please, come in, we have much to discuss."


The guard at the door glanced at Tradx for a good while before ushering him in

"Uh, come with me, there's a meeting about to.." His words died when he noticed the sandstorm "Oh, shit!". He then made a grab at Tradx's arm, spouting "Get in, quick!"


In South America
The room was eerily silent. Those tasked with accompanying Justice watched as their commanding officer surveyed the darkened room. His forces came in without warning and the president's security were butchered within second, shot from behind walls or from above the ceiling.

Justice held the president above the air with his third arm as his looked at the window, imitating a pose he often saw of American presidents with his hands behind his back.

"Tell me somethin' mistuh president."Justice began, "What do you know of... Inevitability?"

"E... Estan monstruo... Tu bastado!" The President wheezed.

Justice tightened his grip on The President's neck, just a little. "Now, now. I don't quite speak that Mexican jive. Mind sayin' that again in English?"

"You... Will... Die..." Th President managed.

"You see, mistuh president... Inevitability is your fate comin' right atcha like a locomotive. Don't mattuh how much ya' fight against it, no mattuh how much ya' pray, it's gonna hitcha."

"Va... a infierno!" The President managed.

"And this, mistuh president, is yer inevitability..."

That lanky mutant arm crushed the helpless man's neck with a sickening crunch. However, Justice's men didn't flinch, or react in anyway whatsoever. It made Justice just a little disappointed; he always reveled in revolting others. But, that didn't matter. He tossed the now limp body out the window and took a seat at the big desk, throwing his feet over it while lighting himself a cigarette.

"And this right here, is also... Inevitability."

Animal Man was being chased by a battalion of mecha; two blades lead by an Ace which had began to open fire on Animal Man. There orders were to kill him if they couldn't catch him.

Looks at his comlink. "no signal, that figures." he tries to get a baring on his surroundings. when he receives a call. "the hell? i thought i had no signal."

He Answers.

"Good to see you walking around again." said the woman's voice.

"how are you reaching me? i can't find service"

"We don't have much time to get into that. more importantly your probably wondering where you are and how you got there. right now we placed you in a refugee camp in Africa. we p-"

"Whoa whoa wait. AFRICA?"

"please we don't have much time. as I was saying: we sent you to one of the only safe havens this world has left. when the Foundation found you you were barley alive. and we sent you there so you can help us."

"and what about my family? my friends? NICOLE?"

"none of your know contacts have been found among the dead. there is still hope"

"Then send me back. I need to protect them."

"You are worth more to us alive than dead. You wont be doing much good on your own."

"Well Gee. thanks for that. tell me why I'd want to help you guys again?"

"Last time you worked for us you wanted a full pardon we can make that happen. all sins past, present and future will be wiped clean. as far as the government is concerned anyway."

How exactly?"

"once the Collective are removed we will be able to put in who we want. and you know what we stand for is just."

"Fine I'm in"

"Good. you'll find a cash of your weapons and supplies a mile west from where you are now. once you do, find like minded individuals. you need a team to have any hope to get this world back to normal. just don't tell anyone that you know us"

"How am I gonna do that, exactly?"

"no time to explain we must terminate this call. and establish radio silence, for a while. Take care."

*blip* the conversation ends and no record can be found in the call log.

"Well this is fucking great, Walk a mile in the deserts of Africa." as he starts to move out.

Drake, a bit put off by the faceless man, strode into the room. "Not to be rude," he said as he walked by, "but one of your guests has slight bout of megalomania." He gestured to the Russian Robot.

The necromancer did enjoy his timing. Its not every day you can make a grand entrance with a deadly sandstorm raging around you. Then again, its not everyday you join a resistance group. His mind journeyed on wondering who he'd end up working with.

With a solid "THUD" he walked right into the entrance door. After jiggling the handle and knocking for a few seconds his armor was getting weighed down by sand. He leaned his small stature close to the door and let out his voice that echoed from beyond the Abyss.

"Uh, Hello? Its quite nasty out. Can someone let me in?"

The door opened just wide enough for someone to reach and arm through and grab the Necromancer.

"Sheesh, what are you doing walking around in a sandstorm? Well, nevermind, Question is waiting for you in his office" Said a guard.

"SON OF A FUCK! A SANDSTORM? REALLY? i need to find a freakin' jeep."

as i arrive at the mile marker and find a couple of duffle bags under a rock just like they message said it would. the sandstorm was now very intense as Landon looked for shelter. and possibly find the "like minded individuals" he needed to find.

(((OoC for the sake of plot he sees the meeting point a few hundred yards away)))

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