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rydi
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The Team

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Lost Souls

The Lost Souls are a collection of unique individuals gathered from across time and reality. Each member, in thier own way, has become unhinged from fate. Some are from times long forgotten, some have attained power that has let them transcend fate, and some have even lost their entire reality, but all share the status of outsider. They are also unique within the multiverse, in that they have very few 'other selves' across the multiverse, which some scholars versed in the study of reality would say is the source of thier power. As thier divided selves have come together, so too has thier power. Whatever the case, they have found a common bond in one another, and together they work towards a better future for all.
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Terra

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Terra

Born in 940 CE, Terra Duncan grew up to be a fairly average young woman. Her father raised sheep, along with her brothers, and she helped both her mother and father with chores, spending what little extra time she had playing with the other children in the community. What little education she possessed was gained through the instruction of the local priest, and amounted to little more than basic math and the ability to write her name. She grew up to be an attractive young woman, possessed of brilliant eyes, a lithe figure, and lustrous red hair. Her beauty attracted many suitors, but her father saying she was to young for such things, turned them all away. Terra dutifully avoided the boys that attempted to win her affection, but found it extremely difficult in the case of Connor, the cheiftans oldest boy. He was charming, educated, and wealthy; a heady mix for a child of a poor family. Connor promised her marriage, which appealed to her both personally, he was a lovely man after all, and for the sake of her family. So, when Connor asked her to sneak away from home for secret trysts, she was more than willing. But, as the months passed, he spoke little of their betrothal, and had yet to approach her father or to declare their intentions to the rest of the clan. And fear started to gnaw at her, as her belly swelled, and she realized she was pregnant. She would not be able to hide such things for long, and her mother, gifted with a bit of her grandmother's vision, already watched her strangely, as though she knew something were afoot.

Terra told Connor of her concerns, and he said that all would be arranged the next day. Waking early, she prepared herself, attempting to be as lovely as possible for her future husband when he made the announcement of their betrothal, and to hide the shame of her pregnancy. Her father came to her and said that Connor had an announcement to make to the clan, and that she should be there. When everyone had gathered, and Connor began to speak, Terra was so anxious that she could hardly focus on his words. But as he kept talking, she observed that the crowd was not happy, as she had expected, and she began to listen more intently, at first with disbelief, and then with horror. He said that she had approached him, already with child, and begged marriage. He had gently turned her away, but when she threatened to claim it was his and stain his family's honor, he could not stand idly by. He knew for a fact, he said, that the young woman had been with many others, and that the father of the child could not possibly be known. Then several of Connors friends raised thier voices and said that he spoke the truth.

Terra could not understand. Her mother lifted her blouse to view her swollen stomach. Her father slapped her. The crowd turned on her, cursing her as a whore. She simply stood there in shock, as they they became more violent. Only after one of Connor's friends hit her in the shoulder with a small stone, did she run. She ran until she could not run any further, and sunk down to the ground, wanting only to die. She had nothing left. No family, no people, nothing. Why did he spurn her? What had she done to make him hate her? After spending a full day alone, hungry, and cold, she resolved to find out why he had done this, and if they stoned her to death in the process, then so be it.

Terra went to his home early in the evening, to the barn where Connor would surely be grooming his horse by now. She entered the barn, and as he was finishing and asked why she deserved this. Had she only just 'let things be', he said, none of this would have happened. She ran to him then, to beg him to make things right, but he slapped her away. Filled with rage, she ran toward him and knocked him to the ground, along with the lamp he carried. The lamp shattered, spilling flame across the floor of the barn and over Connor's legs. Connor screamed as the flame quickly spread, but Terra only stood there, the rage that had filled her suddenly gone. She could feel the fire begin to eat at her dress, and she thought that this would be best for everyone. Her child would not have to grow up a bastard, she would not have to live as a whore, and Connor would get what he deserved. As her dress burned, it occured to her that the fire should hurt, but instead she felt only a comforting warmth. When the men came with buckets of water and pulled her and Connor from the flames, she struggled, trying to stay within the building, but they pulled her away. When she had finally come to her senses, Terra realized that she had not a single burn, despite her clothing having been almost totally consumed. Connor was not so lucky. He had burns over his legs where the oil had spilled, and only the fact that he had instintively rolled on the dirt floor to put the fire out had saved him from worse burns.

Seeing her unharmed, Connor and his friends called her a witch, and Connor, maddened by pain, and wanting revenge for his injuries, said that she had tried to kill him. He told the other men to tie her quickly and take her to the river, which they were more than happy to do. He said that they could do as they wished with her, but after words to drown her so that her spirit would be taken by the water and not left to haunt them. So the men had thier way as they held her head under water, allowing her occassional breaths of air, breaths that came farther and farther apart. In the midst of her pain, and her shame, Terra felt an upwelling, a feeling of power sweep through her. As though in a trance, she removed the hands of the men from her body, and pulled herself up. She paid no attention to the men straining against her, nor to their screams of pain as thier wrists shattered under her grip. Turning to Connor, she ran to him and sank down next to him on the ground. Embracing him she asked him why, and begged him to make it all stop. She wept on his shoulder, and begged him to just make her his wife. Lost in her grief, she paid no heed to the sound of his cracking ribs, or the helpless struggle he made to free himself from her deadly embrace.

When the men returned with the priest and reinforcements, they found Terra unconscious, wrapped around the crushed form of Connor. They attacked her with what few weapons they had, for clearly she was a demon, but they could not harm her. The priest said that they could lock her in the cellar until he could summon another, one who could exorcise the demon that most surely possessed her. Terra was unconscious for days, and when she awoke it was to the face of the old priest who was accompanied by another of his order who seemed to have an air of authority. The village priest referred to him as Father Montgomery. When she was aware enough to take in her surroundings, she realized she was inside a wagon, clothed once more, and bound with iron chains. Her ride was short lived however, as only a few hours later the wagon stopped and she was carried into a large church, then down into cellars far bellow it to be locked away.

The priest, Father Montgomery, left her alone in the dark for days, leaving food for her when she fitfully slept. After she had lost all track of time, and she had lost all hope of ever leaving her cell, gaurds came to escort her to another part of the dungeon, one filled with implements of torture and the chanting of monks. She was stripped and chained to a table, where Father Montgomery stood over her, compelling the others to pray for her soul. She cried out, saying she had done nothing, at which point he leaned over and whispered into her ear. He told her that he understood, that she was just born evil. He had seen others with strange powers and deformed bodies. Many, like her, had a grandmother or mother with the sight; some had touched strange rocks fallen from the sky. All of these were just more of the devil's attempts to corrupt mankind. Before this corruption of the flesh, it was a corruption of the soul, as men delved into the dark arts. But it mattered not, he said, for power was given unto him to suppress the devil's work. He could not free her body, and she would die, but there was a chance that her child might be made clean, and so they would purify her spirit with pain until the child's birth, and then mercifully remove her from the world, and let her soul go to god, released from her unclean flesh.

When he was finished, he commanded another priest to apply the brand to her, but as before she was unharmed by the heat. Montgomery seemed to expect this, and he then took the brand, telling the others that faith must be used to counter the devil's work, at which point he said a small prayer and placed the brand on her once more. Pain seared through her, and whatever protection she had crumbled beneath the holy words of the preist. She must be of the devil; that explained why Connor had turned from her, why all this had happened. But why? Was it her being with him outside of marriage? But no, the priest said it was passed on by touch or blood. Not even her fault. Why then would god allow such things?

Terra pondered these questions as the months went by. Her days were filled with pain and prayer, while her nights were cold and filled with a terrible lonliness. She tried to call upon her power to escape at first, but the priest was always there to stop her with his prayers. After serveral months, the priest did not even come to say prayers before she was to be 'purified'; her strength and invulnerability seemed to have left her, and when she tried to summon it she felt a strange sensation from the child inside her. She feared that the child was absorbing whatever curse was upon her, and that it too would die. As her time approached, her fears were realized as Montgomery told her that it was unfortunate how her evil seemed to be flowing into the child; though they would of course test it, it was almost certain that the child would be corrupted like its mother.

When her day finally came, Terra was so exhausted from the rituals of the priests that she was only conscious a small part of the time. The pain was intense, and she felt the child pulling at her spirit somehow, taking what was left of her strength. When it was over, for a moment she was filled with joy; she saw the children in front of her, twins, a boy and a girl. But then they were taken from thier mother's corrupting presence to be tested and likely killed, all the while thier mother was chained to the table she had given birth to them on. She saw Father Montgomery signal to the other priests that the time for her death was at hand, and she despaired. More than anything, she wished to go into the heavens and ask god why he would allow such evils to occur. As the Priests approached to end her life, Terra felt a strange power well up in her. She no longer felt drained, no longer weak. With the children gone, she felt the power of her curse, and called upon it, no longer caring whether it was right or wrong in god's eyes, as such terms were meaningless when god himself allowed evil to exist.

Terra strained at her bonds and the chains holding her shattered. The father started to pray, but she was already flying, tearing through the basement ceiling. She flew higher and higher, past the bonds of the earth, into heaven itself. She soared beyond the clouds into the outer darkness, where even sound was swallowed by the night. And there she found something that could only be God... or the devil... Overwhelmed for a moment by its majesty, she found anger overcoming her awe, and she decided that she would have an answer.
_____________________

Galactus flew through the spaceways, compelled by his constant hunger to range ever farther for worlds to sustain him. Thoughts of age and power beyond mortal comprehension flowed through his ancient mind as he contemplated the lush world before him. This would be a fine meal for Galactus, Devourer of Worlds. And only primitive life dwelt upon the world, not even capable of a token resistance to his...

*thunk*

The vibration on his face removed him from his reverie. Strange... A mortal creature from the world below stood before him, attempting to harm him with its bleeding paws while moving its face as though in an attempt to communicate. As many other creatures born in atmosphere, a scan revealed that this creature used sound as a means of communication. But the creature seemed not to understand it was in a vacuume... how amusing. After letting it continue for a time, the Great Galactus deigned to create a bubble of oxygen around the creature to comfort it while reading it's mind, but found to his surprise a strange resistance. The creature intrigued him, distracting him from his eternal hunger. He decide to speak to it rather than damage it with forceful probes. Pulling all the languages from the minds of the creatures below, he found the one that matched the creatures sound patterns and...
________________

Terra had been screaming at the thing, but in this place she made no sound. She even had the audacity to hit it in the face, but still garnered no response. She beat on it, she screamed, she bloodied her knukles on its impenetrable, impurturbable countenance, and then suddenly she could hear again. Stunned into momentary silence, she quickly resumed her angry questions: why, god, did you let this happen to me? Why god, do you let evil happen? Why god, do you not care about your creations?
________________

Galactus was entertained. Often was he worshiped as god, but seldom did the creatures ever so boldly challenge him, or speak to him directly. Strange that a creature from the planet below should even be able to face him in the void as she did. Cursory scans showed a variance in her genetic structure, a mutation. And yet this relatively powerful creature wore chains rather than leading the creatures of her world... The world became more and more interesting as he interacted with it... But what to do with the creature? His hunger grew, and it had been long since he had had a herald, and this one might be well suited to this task...
________________

She had all but given up; god simply did not care... but then he spoke.

"Would you rise above such questions, to live for greater things, or would you be a prisoner of this world? I am not your god, but I have power like unto a god. Your world is but a speck, to be blotted out and consumed, your life of no significance. Would you be more than this? Open your mind, see the cosmos as it is, not as your petty world has shown you *visions of the universe*. I give you an offer I have made to few others: serve me, guide me to worlds upon which I may feed, and I will give you power undreampt of, so that you will never again be a prisoner! You will become a Herald of Galactus, and serve me long after your world is but dust on the cosmic winds! What will you choose?"
____________________

The creature said it was not god yet possessed his power and it showed her concepts she could scarcely comprehend. Her mind reeled, yet one thing rang clear in her mind: she could be free, beholden to none but this one. And who could ask for more? Are we not all beholden to god? Then she remembered; her children, they needed her, but she could not fight the priest and his prayers... But neither would she leave them to suffer at his hands...

"Yes, I will do whatever you ask. But... Only if you grant me a boon o great one. I ask that you aid me in sparing my children, take them to someplace safe on my world, to be raised by someone who will love them."
__________

Who was this creature, to make demands on the great Galactus, after such a generous offer that none could hope for in a thousand lifetimes? But he was a magnanimous being, and it was of little effort to fulfill the creatures request...

"Your wish is granted. Take this device to your children, and open it to activate it. Your children will be sent to safety; i will even spare your insignificant world. But now, be transformed!!! Feel the power cosmic remake you, flow through your... hmmm... The vessel resists, the strange genetic sequence is not allowing the power cosmic to fully remake her, creating an imperfect bond... To do more would destroy her however... Ah, there. I have stabilized it and turned the flaw into a strength! Though unable to project it, her body will resonate with it..."

You stand before me, remade! A herald of galactus ever more, you shall keep your name, the name of your world, as a reminder of why you serve."

"Go now my herald, and make haste, for Galactus ever hungers!"
__________________

Terra floated in the void, the mind-rending pain of her transformation complete. Her body burned with the divine might, her eyes flared like stars and even her skin glowed with light, as a shuttered lantern, hiding the flame within. Her power flowed into the gauntlets on her hands, which in turn warped the space around her, and guiding her movements through the void. She fell back to Earth like a fallen star, which perhaps she was, much as the dawnbringer himself...

Trusting the gauntlets to guide her, she found her way to the church that had been her prison. She floated down through the damaged building, using the holes she had torn in the building to return once more to the dungeons. She found the priests there, preparing to enact the same ritual that they had intended for her. They acted with haste, as though they expected the children to also fly away to escape thier grasp... Terra used the power of her gauntlets to move the priests away, and even Father Montgomery, despite his prayers, was slammed into the stone walls. Terra picked up her children, holding them in her arms before leaving them forever. She willed the power that flowed through her into her children, touching each of them on the forehead and saying a traditional blessing. Then she sat them down once more, and opened the device her master had given her, setting it on the table next to the children. It wrapped the children in a soft blue light, and lifted the into the air. The device spun and pulsed for a brief moment, then the children and the device were simply gone. Her master's voice spoke to her through the gauntlets, "There is no place on your world where children such as yours will be safe. I send them to the future of your world, where they will be cared for. Now, worry for them no more, and fulfill your task as Herald of Galactus!"
___________

The years became decades, and the decades centuries. Terra sought out worlds for her master, and in the process learned much about the nature of the universe and its inhabitants. Early in her tenure as herald, Terra spent much time with her master, staying with him between feedings, and learning from him on the rare occassions he deigned to to converse with her. She payed little heed to the worlds she led him to, and assumed that it was her god's will if their inhabitants were destroyed. As time passed and she saw Galactus for what he was, an old and tired creature of vast power that, despite his power, was a slave to his own hunger, she ranged further out, exploring the vastness of space and the strange cultures that floated in the void. Though she no longer believed her master to be god, she continued in her task as herald, seeing her master as but a part of the larger universe, a predator much as any other, who made the universe stronger by his predation.

As the years slipped quickly by, Terra found her humanity slipping away as well. The passions that fueled her early life were replaced by ennui and a cold, calculated observation of her surroundings. She could scarcely remember the past she once had on the planet of her birth, and when on the few occassions she did cast her memory back to her distant past, she felt no connection to the girl, the human, she once was. She was simply Terra, Herald, Weilder of the Power Cosmic. In time she came to be feared and despised for her role, and many challenged her, attempting to destroy the servant where they could not destroy the master. Whether against armada or lone champion, Terra never faltered, was never defeated; each challenge only served to hone her skills and teach her. For her amusement, she would occassionally play at godhood, altering the course of a worlds development, or intervene in a culture, forging new paths for it, but such things were mere diversions, and could not hold her interest for long. As the centuries flowed by, Terra found herself slipping further and further into a listless apathy. Even Galactus' call barely moved her.

It was in this state, during her aimless wanderings, that she found the world of Azren. Seeing a possible meal for her master, she walked among its people, as she always did before the end, to see them before the chaos of the final days, before thier selfishness destroyed the beauty of their world. What she found moved her as few things could. A caring world, a world in balance with itself, a rare thing. She felt a moment of sadness, knowing that it would come to the same end as all the others, but nonetheless she announced to them that their world would die. She was surprised to see that they did not war, did not quarel, but simply evacuated whom they could, and those less likely to survived volunteered to stay behind. On the verge of sending the call to her master, she paused. Why let this world die? There are others, less worthy worlds, worlds of horror and pain, of tyranical overlords and endless slavery. It would be almost a mercy to let them die, but this place possessed a rare beauty. She held her call, but felt her master's hunger more urgently. She could still find him another world... But if she left now the world would be as assured of death as if Galactus had devoured it. The space pirates and Kree both closed on the world even as she contemplated. The Kree were drawn to the weakness and destabilization her presence always heralded, and the pirates would scavenge and the worlds detritus and enslave the refugees. So, for the first time in centuries of faithful service, she ignored her master's call. She stayed to protect the world from it's would be conquerors. The pirates and the ships of the Slaver's guild fell first, torn by gravitic pulses and ripped apart by gravitic pulses. The kree who came to dominate the outlying worlds of this small, peaceful empire, were a harder challenge, as they attempted to outmanuever her. But hers was the power cosmic and the inborn gift of flight. They were not fast enough, and in the end, even their champions, empowered themselves with cosmic might, were little more than a moments work for her. She called the people of Azren back, and told them that thier world would not be destroyed this day. Returning swiftly to her task as Herald, she found another world, a kree world, for the devourer that day.
_______________

The cosmic dragons, ancient beyond mortal understanding, composed of the primal cosmic energy of the universe and the mystical energies that flowed through the universal ley lines, observed as one of their favorite worlds was saved. It was a nexus of power, and a world inhabited by beings that had taken the instruction of the ancients to heart. They watched impassively as the mind of the Spark before them changed its energy pattern. They looked into it's future, into the diverging roads it would walk, across the many worlds of the multiverse, and they marked it, for it would bear watching.
____________

Terra was tired. Tired of the prison of her service, of the endless sameness, and of the purposeless existence. She craved release, and she decided that it was time for her service to end. Galactus might destroy her, or bind her in some other way, but she would at least ask. And as Galactus enjoyed seeing himself as a benevolent master, she felt that if she asked she would stand the greatest chance of success. So, in the wake of her delayed search, after her master was well fed, she approached him to ask for release.

"I wish freedom. I tire of this life, of it's monotony and it's servitude. You said I would no longer be a prisoner, but as long as you are my master, I am your prisoner. An I see in you a loathing for me, for I entertain you no longer; I only serve to remind you of yourself. Why not simply find another, as you once found me?"

Galactus, silent but ever contemplating, had seen his favorite herald falling. It was inevitable. The ages passed and wore on all things. She was interesting at first, a child of sorts, to one that had never created, only destroyed. Then she was a companion, to share in the timeless eternity. Now, she was as he, robbed of purpose, with only survival as a goal. She was his creation, and his mirror. And though in his incomprehensible mind a feeling akin to love existed for her, hatred too had begun to bloom, a hatred for his own existence, and for the creature that defied his eternal servitude by asking for release. So when his herald approached him to ask for her leave, he was both compelled to hold her for the eternity she had promised, and to free her and find a new, fresh herald. Feelings warred in his ancient mind, but in the end, he was a generous master.

"Go now. You are Herald no longer, but will a Herald always be. As reward for one of the greatest of my servants, I give you freedom. But it is a freedom that will leave you always apart, for your power will separate you from all others. Go now, and live as you will!"

Terra flew then. She landed on a long dead world, what her gauntlets said was the first world she had found for the Devourer of Worlds. There she buried her Gauntlets. There she parted with her life as Herald.
______________________

Terra spent her freedom learning, and preserving those things she found pleasing. She went to the Shi'ar and studied in thier libraries. She aided them in missions of mercy, or grand construction projects. She went to young worlds and aided thier peoples, shaping them as she had many times before, but this time towards a greater purpose. She came to see herself as a dispenser of justice, aiding those that did no harm, and eliminating those that would enslave or destroy others. She found that she felt happier free, working to create something of worth, working to destroy the unworthy. If one could say she felt at all, as detached as she was from the universe.

But she made many enemies, primary among them the Slavers guild. In all the multiverses they seldom dealt with such fierce opposition as her. It seemed that she bore them some special resentment, and they worked to bring about her downfall. When Galactus took new heralds, the Slaver's approached them, seeking an ally strong enough to defeat her. While most Heralds refused to betray one of their own, one answered their call. Morg.

A trap was arranged by the slavers. Morg would attack her, wielding his axe while she was bereft of her cosmic gauntlets, and once she was beaten down, the slavers would use a rare and expensive devise from a now dead multiverse to enslave her. When the trap was sprung, Terra surprised the over-confident new Herald with her power, and her experience, but with not only the power of Galactus, but that of the well of worlds, she could not stop him without her gauntlets. The Slavers struck when she was weak, and imprisoned her in a field of Dark energy.

Terra became a plaything for the Slaver's, immobilized and powerless. She was transported across the many multiverses, a symbol of the Slaver's power. Rage built within Terra, but she was powerless to free herself. Only the patience of one who has seen centuries pass in the changeless void saved her sanity, if her mind could indeed be called sane even before her imprisonment by the Slavers. She knew that all things must eventually fall, and that she would then have her chance.

Her chance did indeed come, but it nearly cost her life. Her captor's were visiting a new multiverse, hoping to find new business and resources. But this universe was different. It was being consumed by a psychic entity of inconceivable power. This being, which called itself Onslaught, was contained by the barriers of the multiverse, but where it found cracks it moved through them into others. The Slavers tried to escape, but they were killed, their equipment destroyed and their minds consumed. Terra was freed when thier equipment was destroyed, but without escape. And the mind of the entity sought to consume her. But she was far stronger than it realized. Resisting its power, she picked up the planar transport device of the Slavers, using her power to repair it and provide it the energy necessary for its operation. A small gateway opened, and she slipped through. The creature recoiled from her mind, but gave chase. She sped through the nothing of the place between places, and set the device to find the only world she could think of: Earth. Racing just ahead of the entity, assaulted by its mind, the gate closed barely in time to shut out the creature from the reality she had entered.

Was it her world? Her reality? She wondered idly about what would happen as she fell into the world's atmosphere, to weak from her psychic battle to fly. For the first time in ages, she felt her consciousness slipping away...

_________

That night, a shooting star was seen accross the northern United States. It landed in the north west, leaving a crater and causing small earthquakes in the region. A Native American man of 30ish years appeared on the scene, apparently out of nowhere. Seeing the girl, naked in the still smoldering crater, he floated down, wraping both of them in a blanket of Darkness. The girl woke enough to mumble a warning before falling back into unconsciousness "Onslaught is coming...". Then they both disappeared.
Threading the Gerbil since 1982

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Randy, Avatar of the Void

Post by rydi »

Randy, Avatar of the Void

Randy was born on a reservation to a poor Native American family. He spent his adolescence trying to escape, to be something more, and leave his past of poverty behind. Instead of learning the traditions of his people, he focused on shcool and academic knowledge in hopes that he could go to college on scholarship. Only when he manifested strange abilities, reading thoughts and moving objects with his mind, did he turn to his gradfather, an old medicine man for help. The old man, seeing in him a connection to the spirit world, began training him in the ways of a medicine man, but died before Randy's training was complete, only days before his college acceptance letter came in, leaving him directionless and afraid. With his future hanging in the balance, Randy chose to ignore his gifts and the lessons of his grandfather and instead throw himself into the outside world.

Despite guilt over abandoning the legacy of his grandfather, Randy went on to be extremely successful in college, getting exceptional grades and making many friends. His pain over ignoring the duties of his gifts was mitigated by the knowledge of the fact that he was most likely a mutant, and not a gifted shaman with some 'connection to the spirits'. Graduating at the top of his class, Randy was poised to enter into graduate school and move into a highly lucrative career in business, when his life took an abrupt turn.

For weeks Randy had dreams of some impending disaster. He began hearing the thoughts of others after long years of denying his powers. And all of his dreams, all of the thoughts he heard, were connected. Someone, maybe a group of people, were planning an attack. People would die. Randy, frightened and wanting only a succesful, normal future, ignored the warnings and went on with his life, doing nothing to stop the people he glimpsed in his mind. He told himself it was his imagination, or just a possible future, or stray thoughts, or even that it wasn't his responsibility. But fate would not let him deny his part in the matter.

On graduation day, what should have been a celebration turned into a bloodbath. Men with automatic weapons and explosives took the graduating class and their family members hostage, then broadcast their act of terror to news stations around the world. Hydra would conquer they said, and the regimes of the world would fall to them. Randy new how wrong he had been to do nothing, but it was too late. He could see in thier minds that each of the terrorists intended to die that day, after they had built up sufficient fear in those watching the spectacle. Knowing that all of this was his fault, Randy chose to act.

Screaming for people to run, he struck out with his psychokinetics, killing the man with the detonator, and knocking back two others. The terrorists began firing into the crowd, while shield agents attempted to establish targets through the chaos. Randy was shot, losing concentration, and one of the terrorists managed to detonate the explosives. While many were able to get out of the blast radius due to Randy's intervention, he knew in the moment before his death that all of this had been his fault. Then the explosion ripped through him. But Death did not claim Randy that day. She passed his soul on to another...

Randy woke to darkness. He felt nothing, saw nothing, sensed nothing. He searched in the darkness, fearing that he had been damned for his mistakes. As he searched for something, anything in the darkness, staring into the void spread before him, he suddenly knew that the Void stared back. He heard a soft whispering, not in his ears, but in his mind.

:hello randy.:

"Who are you?! Where am I?! Is this hell?!"

:no randy. you are beyond hell. you sit outside of all creation here, in me.:

"Are you god then? Is this all there is?"

:no randy. i am not god. i am mearly a reflection of your existence, given form by your collective will. but in a very real sense, i am not 'all that there is' but am in fact all that is not.:

"Why am i here then?"

:i took you out of your world. you were unique in creation, and i have need of you. i enjoy your collective existence. it might even be the case that i cannot exist without it. i see in what you would call the future however an increasing risk of your demise. i therefore have chosen to create a protector. you will, if you accept, become my avatar, weilding my power to preserve all that is. i can choose another of course, if you so wish, but i see in you great potential...:

"You mean i could return to life? Have everything back?"

:no randy. you would have nothing back. you would be forever changed, with great power, but only responsibility. your hopes, your wishes, all would need be abandoned to a greater cause. but you would also be give great power, power enough to re-shape the whole of your existence...:

"What if i don't want that? what if all i want is to go back and live a normal life?"

:then you would not be a worthy avatar.:

"Must i decide now? Can't I wait?"

:certainly. you may stay here as long as you like... with me eternity is an instant, the future and the past are all the same... contemplate as long as you wish...:

"No. No. I... there isn't a point. I know what my answer will be. The only answer I can give is... Yes. I want to go back, whatever the cost."

:wonderful randy. when you return, you will have my power. use it well. your own powers will guide you, and i will at times speak to you. but in the end, you will have only your own wisdom to show you the right path. it is for your wisdom, as much as any other trait, that i chose you. goodbye randy. save your existence, and save yourself.:
----
Randy woke in the hospital to unbearable noise. The thoughts of the injured and sick pounded against him, voices of the past and the future bled into the present, and the sound of his own screams became the only anchor to his own sanity. Somehow, all the abilities he had been suppressing had manifested, but without control, without clarity. Only with sedatives and weeks of practice did he become able to limit his powers somewhat, to create a barrier that prevented him from fully using his powers. In this time he also found that his psychokinetic abilities were gone, replaced by something... else. Darkness flowed from him, manipulating objects at a distance, even consuming them only to have them reapear again. The power frightened him. And he was alone. His family had turned their back on him long ago when he had left the reservation, and his friends from school, the ones that weren't dead, would not come see the horrifying mutant that was able to kill with his mind.

So Randy brooded in the hospital as his wounds healed. And the more he thought about his life, his powers, the more he doubted himself. He could not handle such power. He could not be responsible for so much. Let the creature he had spoken to choose another. When Randy was released, he purchased a small cabin in the woods using the insurance money from the attack. And he hid. He refused to watch the news, so that he would not have to feel guilt over his inaction. He hunted and grew his own food, rather than having to interact with others, and have their thoughts intrude on him. For nearly a decade Randy hid from his powers, and from himself. Guilt from the attack still gnawed at him, a guilt which was only compounded by memories of abandoning his family, and the knowledge that he was not fulfilling the bargain he had made.

As the years passed, he heard the voice of the entity calling to him from the place beyond, giving him insight, speaking to him of his duties. But Randy refused to listen. He only wanted... What did he want? He didn't even know any longer. Everything he had wanted in his first life seemed so very petty. But what then was left? Companionship? To make a difference? To not live in fear of these powers? After 9 years had passed, the voice was a near constant companion. No longer was it simply a feeling, or a whisper; now it spoke to him as though it were right next to him, calling him to action, showing him a future only a short time distant, where he would have to act or watch all of his world, all of creation, die.

The voice was loud in his head, not screaming, it never screamed, but loud, loud, the night the star fell across the sky. And then there was silence; Randy knew that his choice was now. Would he go forward and fulfill his duty, or would he die a cowards death and condemn not only himself, but all others? There was of course no real choice.

Randy sought out the falling star, searching for it in his minds eye, and willed himself to be there. Randy fell into darkness, and was no more, leaving only a quiet clearing by a small cabin in the wilderness.
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Jack, the Wanderer

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Jack, the Wanderer

The entity that calls itself Jack has lost its first name to the sands of his ancient homeland, Egypt. In the most ancient times, when the pyramids were still new, before the old gods had died, Jack was the greatest of Egypts sorcerers. But in a quest for greater power, he turned his abilities to the service of the dark gods Set and Apophis, and was driven to madness by thier evil lore and the power they granted him. Filled with hubris, Jack attacked the enemies of his gods, the priests of Isis and Osiris, attempting to destroy their greatest temple, and in the process to become the high priest of all Egypt. Jack was more skilled than any of the sorcerers and priests he challenged, and he took the temple easily. But Osiris and Isis were not without power, and the murder of their priests enraged them. When Jack entered the temple of Osiris and Isis, the seat of their power, he felt himself cut off from the power of his gods, and his spells had no power. When he tried to leave, the spirits of those he had killed rose up from thier still heated blood to bar his passage.

Jack was powerless then, and Osiris would have destroyed him then, but Isis, ever seeking redemption for the fallen, stayed his hand, proposing a different solution. Osiris saw the wisdom of her plan, and instead of destroying the evil priest, the god exiled his soul to the astral realm, barring it from ever touching the material world and binding it to wandering the world, watching but never touching, until the day he redeemed himself.

Jack spent many years following that day straining against his mystic bonds, searching for some way to regain contact with his world. He cursed Osiris and Isis, and his own hatred devoured him slowly. When he saw that he could not thwart his curse, Jack ranged across the world, watching the sorcerers of other cultures, and the priests of other gods, hoping he could find some secret that might allow him to regain his freedom. He whispered in the minds of those that sent thier spirits out across the astral realm, offering all his magical knowledge in exchange for his freedom, but he found that those willing to learn secret lore from dark spirits were seldom honest enough to keep thier bargains. Finally, hope lost, Jack simply lost awareness for a time, fading back from his observation to a state of oblivious repose.

When Jack woke again, he found that he had drifted to a place near another realm, some other dimension connected to the astral, a danger he had avoided for fear that he would lose his way back to earth forever. But what did it matter now? He decided to explore the land that lay in the far distance, across a strange rainbow path. When he arrived at the path, he found it blocked by some battle, with giants swarming accross it. Irritated at the inconvenient delay they caused him, Jack summoned his powers to brush them off of the bridge into the chasm of the astral far below. He approached the paths gaurdians, thinking to remove them as well, but the warriors seemed to be under the impression that he was there to aid them. They welcomed him, inviting him into thier realm, which they called Asgard, to share their hospitality. Weary and bored beyond the comprehension of those bound to the flesh, Jack agreed.

The time spent in Asgard was one of the most profound experiences of Jack's long existence. He was treated to fine foods, song, and all the simple pleasures of life that he had been removed from for so long. When the people saw that he was a sorcerer, he was given work, and eventualy came to the notice of the lord of Asgard and his young sons, one of whom was a sorcerer as well. He became fast friends with Loki, finding a kindred spirit, and taking a joy in companionship that he never had in life, even taking the lords other son as a friend despite the fact that Jack had taken the attentions of the woman he had been courting only months before, a young woman at court who he slowly came to love and who, shockingly, seemed to return his feelings. But his time was to be sadly short in Asgard.

Thor was suspicious of the outsider from the beginning, and the freindship with his brother only made Thor more so. But the seeming benevolence of the stranger, and his services to Asgard that were done without request for recompense earned the Odinson's respect. But when he was given hints from his brother that the outsider had used his magical arts to beguile the young woman that Thor had been courting for many moons, and that he was gathering information on Asgards defenses, he was angered and vowed to find the truth of the man's past. Going to oracles and seers, Thor saw that the man wore a cloak of deception, that his past was steeped in evil. Fearing that the wanderer would bring ruin to his people, and angered at the betrayal of one he had called friend, Thor concluded that he would have to cast him out of Asgard.

While Thor quested for answers, Loki plotted. He knew the stranger was not what he seemed. How could he not, after the secret lore they shared. But the stranger was a powerful tool, giving him knowledge of magic from across Midgard, and he could also be used to hurt Thor and that wretched girl that had rejected him for first his brother, and then a base born soul from Midgard. So Loki waited patiently, laying incriminating evidence against the stranger and slipping veiled hints to his brother about the stranger's dark past, all the while playing at friendship.

Loki's planning came to fruition, as Thor stormed into his father's keep, challenging Jack to combat. The young god raged, and attacked the uprepared wanderer. As Thor hammered at Jack's defenses, the young woman to whom he was secretly betrothed screamed and called to them to stop. Loki, acting from the shadows with his magic, pushed her into the midst of the battle, and to the horror of both combatants, the energies unleashed in their battle tore through her frail form, striking a mortal blow. Each blamed the other, Thor seeing the way she fell into thier midst, as if by magic, and Jack knowing that she would not have interfered if not for Thor's unwarrented attack. Feeling a rage he had never felt, Jack called upon horrific magics that had been collected over centuries of life as a dark priest, and centuries more as a disembodied wraith. Thor would have surely died that day, had Odin himself not interfered.

Odin's power was enough to restrain the wanderer, though at great effort. Seeing what had occurred, he cast divinations, and saw that the stranger had not caused the woman's death, nor had he done any evil while he was in Asgard. But seeing the chaos his presence had caused, and the evil powers he had called into Asgard to fight his battles, Odin was angered and exiled Jack from Asgard. He prepared to send Loki away as well, sensing his magics on the girl, but Loki claimed inocence, to only have attempted to protect her from the battle, and Odin, possessing a father's love, chose to believe him. Jack, his anger spent, simply mourned for his love, and when told to gather his things to be escorted to the Rainbow Bridge, he took only the locket of his betrothed. Thor, despite his weakened state, was able to roar out a powerful oath of veangeance against the outsider as he left, before his mind was pulled under by his injuries. Jack, knowledgeable and well versed in the evils of deciet, also swore a vow that day, and let it drift on the wind to Loki's ear. Jack knew the source of his pain, saw the betrayal written clearly in Loki's eyes. One day Jack would exact an unimaginable veangeance upon the godling. Then he crossed the Rainbow Bridge, leaving forever the place where he had known his greatest, his only, happiness.

Jack spent many years traveling the astral plane, trying to forget his pain. He journeyed to distant dimensions, learned hidden lore, even entertained plans of veangeance against Loki and even all of Asgard in the moments his hatred of Loki overcame the memory of his love, who would never have wanted her land to come to harm. When the astral could distract him no more, he returned once more to earth, in hopes that he might approach the gods of Egypt and beg thier forgiveness. Entering the temple of Isis, Jack pleaded for release from his endless torture. He had been wrong, he understood that; all he hoped for now was death. But the gods did not answer. Jack felt not even the stirrings of magic common to even the simplest of temples. It was then that he realized that the gods of Egypt, the gods who had cursed him, were no more. And as their presence departed, so did much of thier curse. Jack was once again able to send his magics out over the earth, but to his no matter the magics he called upon he could not break the final aspect of the curse. Jack was still an immortal spirit, never to touch the world again, and never to die.

The weight of years came crashing down upon Jack then. The pain of his past sins, his isolation, and his loss were too much for him to bear. Crafting a spell of forgetting and sleep, Jack blocked out his past, forgetting even his name. He then fell into oblivion once more.

When Jack awoke, he knew nothing of himself or his past. He understood that he existed apart, and that he had great power, but he could not remember any of the reasons why. He felt a need to do good, to make an impact upon the world that he could not touch. He travelled again, this time offering knowledge freely to any whose spirits seemed pure. But always he was disappointed by the poor use his gifts were put to. Only in rare cases, such as the sorcerous gaurdian of earth, the ancient, were his teachings ever used to help others.

As time passed, the pain of his failures and of the world around him brought old memories to the surface once more. Jack felt all his past rushing up again, and struggled for a solution, some way of blocking out the past more effectively. He decided that he would repeat the spell of forgetting, but this time would implant an instinctual need in himself to create a new identity, one in touch with the times, one that captured the spirit of the age, in hopes that it would more effectively cover his past. Further, he crafted the spell in such a manner as to place him into sleep and bury his memories once every century, thus burying his past under countless layers of alternate personas. The spell cast, Jack lost himself again.

Jack spent centuries in a cycle of forced reincarnation, each life puzzling over his past, his purpose, and his power, but always falling into oblivion before he could find the answers he sought. In his many incarnations Jack influenced many of earths greatest events, but the truth of his impact was lost, buried in his own mind. When Jack awoke In the 20th century, his most recent incarnation, he took a common name from the most powerful and influencial of nations. He took on the characteristics of the generation; Jack became one with the lost, uncertain, and cynical masses. His appearance shifted to that of a young white male, in simple jeans and generic t-shirt. He blended into the clogged metropolitan landscape of the United States, observing the world he found himself in. He searched out knowledge, and applied his brilliant mind to the sciences of the age. He consumed popular culture, and the jargon of the era. But he found thoughts and memories of a past not his own constantly intruding on his thoughts.

For the first time in centuries, the spell of forgetting had failed. The spell depended on the formation of a new identity to cover the past, but that identity was flawed and weak. The identity that the spell created was but a reflection of the modern zeitgeist, a collection of the psychic emanations of the culture. And the 'X' generation, with their dissillusionment, aimlessness, and ambivalence could not create a coherent identity, only a form without substance, much as 'Jack' himself had been for so many millenia.

Confused, lost, feeling a sense of lonliness and isolation he did not understand, Jack felt himself drawn to find others like himself. It was then that the whole of the astral plane twisted and churned, as a dimensional rift formed off of the west coast of the U.S. He sensed a distant presence... no several presences, with whom he might find solace, and possibly some meaning to his purposeless existence. He also sensed a malevolence clawing its way in.

Jack traveled across the astral in search of others like him, other Lost Souls...
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Narese Palmer

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Narese Palmer

Narese was found, only hours old, at the entrance to a small canadian hospital, along with her twin brother. Due to her twin's odd physical characteristics, both infants were tested and found to be mutants. The children were put up for adoption shortly after thier arrival. Her brother was fortunate and was adopted when he was only days old, but with the stigma attached to mutant children, it was nearly a year before Narese found a home.

When New York millionaire and political activist Andy Palmer and his wife found Narese, they were excited. Andy had made himself a successful lobbyist and politician through ties to several far left-wing groups, and adopting a mutant child would cement him as the voice of mutant America in the eyes of many. Additionally, the child's abilities could be very useful in later life depending on what they turned out to be. When they found her, they used their political position to adopt her as a U.S. Citizen, and returned to New York, where Narese was given the best of everything.

Narese went to the most prestigious schools, had training in dance, gymnastics, music, and etiquette. She far exceeded her parents rather high expectations and proved extremely gifted, even aside from her mutant abilities. She recieved special recognition from national science organizations for her chemistry and science projects, and several ivy league schools were already interested in recruiting her as early as her freshman year of highschool. Unfortuneately, at least in her parent's eyes, Narese's mutant abilities were not quite as exceptional as her others however. Narese showed only limited energy manipulation cabilities, giving her the ability to slightly decelerate or accelerate molecular motion, resulting in slight heating or cooling of the ambient air.

Narese's parents were very happy with thier daughter, despite her unremarkable mutation, and showered her with the best of everything. Narese had everything a child could possibly want, except perhaps her parents' affection, which they paid others to give her instead. But Narese didn't mind too much. She found other ways of getting attention, and other people to love her.

Bored academically, rejected by her peers at school due to her mutant status, and supervised only by the strangers her parents hired, Narese made a habit of escaping to the New York techno club scene. False ID's and a little extra cash got her through the doors, and once in, she was the life of the party. She used her knowledge of chemistry to create luminescent effects that lit up the dark interiors, and her wild abandon was both enjoyable and infectious to those around her. At the clubs she could just be herself, with no responsibility and no stigmas for being a rich kid, or a politicians daughter, or a mutant.

But Narese didn't get to live the club life for long. On her way back to her house from yet another long night of partying, Narese found that she was being followed by two men in suits. Having gotten used to evading her caretakers and having had the occassional run in with over-aggressive media following her father, she was more alert to such things, and knew how to lose them. Or so she thought. She switched trains several times, tried losing herself amongst other passengers, but nothing worked. Wherever she went, they were there, or at least men with similar haircuts and black suits anyway. At first she was only a bit worried that she might not be able to get home before her parents were awake, but as the night went on she was increasingly afraid, as she didn't know who was following her, and no one knew where she was... But finally, after she switched for the fourth time, she had lost them.

Making it home just in time, Narese climbed up to her window. Tired and dreading the long day ahead of her, She didn't notice the shadow that loomed in her window, and as she came through, a hands latched onto her arms and pulled her the rest of the way. There were four men in her room, but they weren't wearing fatigues. They had on the kind of stuff you saw special ops people wearing in action movies, and they were holding her down, a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, and a needle jabbing into her, most likely to sedate her. They were going to kidnap her, ransom her, kill her, then harvest her organs or sell her as a slave. She had seen Man on Fire. And nobody liked her well enough to go to the trouble of saving her... Narese, brilliant and capable, thought through all of this, and several possibilities for escape, in the time it took the needle to puncture her skin. But as she felt the cold fluid enter her, she realized that there was nothing she could do.

She panicked then, but they held her as the drug took effect, and started to place some sort of collar on her. Narese was more frightened than she had ever been in her life, and fought with all her quickly fading strength. She even pushed out with her mutant abilities, straining to escape her certain death. And something snapped inside her. Where normally she felt a tingle from her powers as energy passed out of her, she felt as though lightning had struck her, as though an ocean of power flowed out of her. The power burnt away the drugs in her system, then the collar just put into place around her neck, then her captors. But it didn't stop there. And she could no more control it than the ocean she had compared it to. The power ripped through the house, through the surrounding land even some of the nearby property before she could stop its flow. But by then it was far too late.

When it was over, Narese was too stunned to cry. She simply ran. She broke into the neighbors house, running naked to thier daughter's room to find clothes. Then she found a bus and got on. She rode throughout the day, trying to think of what to do, and thinking about what she had done. She had killed her parents, and all the staff. No matter that she had been defending herself, that it was an accident. She had still done it. It was her fault. She had never learned to control her powers well enough, hadn't thought fast enough, hadn't had the will to stop. If she hadn't have made herself a target, if she hadn't have gone out all the time, maybe it would have gone differently. But what was done couldn't be undone. And she didn't have the luxury of crying about it. Not when somebody might take notice of her, not when those people might still be following her. Finally, as night approached, she decided to go to one of the clubs she frequented and find a guy she knew, a guy that worked in some less than legal stuff, to take her in for the night, maybe find a way to hide. If anyone would know how to get lost, he would.

But when she got in the club, she realized she had made a big mistake. They were there. And when she turned to leave, they were behind her. How could she be so stupid? Her panic had blinded her to the fact that if they knew so much about her already, they would know to look for her in her normal hangouts, and would of course know where those places would be. So, they would take her again. Her parents' deaths would be for nothing. And she couldn't use her powers here, even though she felt them trying to leap out, as there were too many innocent people here. She could not trade thier lives for hers. With hope slipping away, she found it ironic when, on the TV in the front office, where the door had been left open, she saw a news report with her father's face; the subtitles showed a debate between two newscasters over whether Palmer's mutant daughter had killed them, or if the activist had been a victim of anti-mutant terrorism. 'Huh,' she thought, 'They're both right... wonder how many arguements are like that...'

She knew she was detaching, disassociating from the situation, her psych class had taught her that. But what else was left? And she could feel her panic growing, giving strength to her powers, and stripping away her control... She knew it was only a matter of time before she killed even more innocent people; she had to run, get away from the crowd. She moved toward the doors, hoping to at least get outside before they took her. But she couldn't even get that far. Three of them grabbed her, and in the chaotic club no one even noticed. They tranquilized her and put another collar on her. And she let them. She couldn't fight them and contain her powers at the same time.

As they pulled her through the club, she took comfort from the fact that at least she hadn't become a murderer again, but it was a hollow victory considering the fact that her life was over. She contemplated her life in the few moments before consciousness left her, looking at the club scene she had been a part of, letting memories wash over her. She went further back, thinking of school, and her parents. As the lights dimmed and her consciousness faded, it occurred to her that she wasn't giving up all that much after all... Groggily, Narese noted that the music had stopped. Her drugged mind noticed that the darkness wasn't quite... normal. Maybe the drug was some sort of hallucinogen? It must have been, because the monster that flowed out of the darkness with the glowing little girl, the old man, and the metal boy certainly didn't make any sense... And the ghostly figure standing next to her didn't really fit in either...

Suddenly, the air around her glowed as ancient runes appeared, flaring in the darkness around her. Her mind was clear and alert, her system cleansed of whatever drugs were in it, but the hallucinations had remained. The boy waved his hand, and her collar fell off. Darkness wrapped around her, absorbing the power she was begining to emit due to the removal of the collar and her own distraction. The world around her rippled, and suddenly she was behind the old man, around whom reality itself seemed to disintegrate. In only an instant she had gone from captivity to freedom, by the hands of these strangers... She was going insane. That had to be it. She had had a psychotic break due to the stress of...

::No Narese, you are more sane now than you ever have been. And you are safe, we'll protect you. Just relax...::

She knew the voice came from the dark man, and though she knew she shouldn't, she beleived him somehow. She watched, along with the club patrons, as the men who had been chasing her finally reacted to these surreal visitors, pulling guns, yelling into their earpieces, and firing off into the crowd. But as they acted, runes flared, darkness writhed, and reality buckled. Bullets and men disappeared. Reinforcements appeared at the front entrance, but by that time the girl and the boy were standing there, the boy wearing a looking of undisguised hate on his youthful face, and the girl... her face was emotionless, but even from where Narese was standing everyone froze in fear, sensing a crushing, aweful power from her.

The reinforcements froze as well, their instincts screaming at them, as they saw their own death in the eyes of the strange children. The girl floated to the leader of the agents, and as she looked into his eyes, he began shaking. The girl spoke then, saying only "She is ours" before turning and floating back through the club, the boy following close behind. The boy and girl resumed thier place by the side of the dark one and the old man. As the boy neared, she felt a strange pull towards him, an energy between them, and he seemed to as well. He moved closer to her and spoke quietly, attempting to comfort her while darkness gathered around them. As the club faded from view, and the girl looked at her with a small smile playing acrose her dead face, Narese was again struck by the irony of her situation, and thought to herself that it might have been better just staying with her original captors...
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Robert

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Robert

Robert, appeared on the doorstep of a canadian hospital when he was but days old, along with a little girl that the staff asumed was his twin sister. Both children were healthy, despite their abandonment in the cold Canadian air, but there was something strange about the boy. His skin had a metalic sheen to it, and those that handled him came away with odd rashes with metal embedded in them. More tests were ran, and they confirmed that both children were mutants. The hospital filed the appropriate paperwork with the government, the children were sent to a home where they would go up for adoption.

Robert was eventually adobted by Perry & Emily Norton, a cute 30ish Canadian couple. He was a scientist working for the government, she a government psychologist specialized in learning and neurology. They were easily able to acquire the permision for the adoption, and were happy to have the child, despite his unfortunate mutation. They initially were interested in Robert's sister, but in the end they did not take her, saying they only could handle the one child with special needs.

Robert was raised by a loving family, his special needs taken care of. His parents, with thier connections, were even able to purchase an inhibitor collar for him, so that he could be more normal, though for some reason it did not fully eliminate his strange abilities. The Nortons lived in a lovely, quiet community, and sent thier son, who proved to be quite gifted, to a private school in the area, where he excelled in his studies despite being somewhat sickly and having a bit of trouble fitting in with other children his age.

Or that is what Robert remembers anyway.

'Perry' and 'Emily' were not who they said they were, though both did in fact work for the Canadian government. Both of them were assigned to the highly classified Weapon X program. They had been sent to pick up the child, who they would later name Robert, due to reports filed by a hospital on a mutant child that converted organic matter into an unknown type of metal. They posed as a couple in order to adopt the child. They dismissed his sister as useless for the time being, but worth tracking for future use. Once back at the facilities, 'Emily' was put in charge of taking care of the child's mental development, while 'Perry' was given the task of assessing his capabilities.

After many experiments, it was determined that with proper conditioning, the child would be able to supply them with the rare metal adamantium. But his powers, unstable, and not wholely responding to mutant power dampeners, fluctuated a great deal. At times, especially when happy or angry, the child would convert whole chunks of living matter to the valuable metal, but at others he would only cause skin irritation. Experiments with plants proved unrewarding, but 'Perry' predicted that the child's abilities would grow in strength with age, gauranteeing that he would be able to supply all of the projects needs. Further, his gift could be used as a potent gift with the correct training...

The project assigned the child to them on a permanent basis, along with permanent identities. Emily would raise the child, ensure it's mental development, and properly program it. Robert would forget all information on the project. At least until he was needed, at which point he would respond instinctively to commands given in combination with a special chemical injection. Perry would force the child's powers to develop as quickly as possible while training the child to use them for the good of the organization.

For the first few years of the project, all went well. The boy learned quickly, his powers were developing as projected, and the organization was thrilled to recieve rat and bunny shaped adamantine chunks. Emotionally the child had difficulties however. The conditioning always took well in the young, but it was damaging to thier development in many ways, reducing interpersonal abilities, as well as emotional stability and mental balance. Paired with the grueling testing, and the trauma that the child experienced as everything he touched in happiness turned to lifeless metal, Robert was not shaping up as well as hoped.

Perry and Emily saw what was happening, and were finding it more and more difficult to continue. They knew the danger of playing out these rolls, that they might fall into them so completely that they lost perspective on the mission. But they could not help themselves. What was being done to the child was wrong. And, against all protocal, Perry and Emily had come to love both one another, and Robert, after thier 4 years together. When orders came stating that Robert's training was to be sped up and intensified, both mother and father knew that their child could not handle it, or at least he would not be able to come out of the experience mentaly intact.

The two of them decided that they would run. With thier knowledge and experience as operatives they were able to evade the program, and to set up a life in a quiet little community. They sent Robert to a private school so that he could be socialized with other children, and tried thier best to appear normal. Through chemicals, inhibitor collars worn as 'bracelets', and psychological training that forced him to repress his powers, the Nortons were able to stay a happy and normal family.

Until Robert's 'bracelet' was damaged.

Robert, always sickly and poorly adjusted due to the experiments, was a prime target for school bullies. Usually his parents were there to pick him up after school, but due a serious car accident that sent both of his parents to the hospital, Robert was forced to go home on the bus. The other children took full advantage of this rare opportunity and tormented Robert until he was in tears. When he ran off the bus at his stop, the neighborhood children attacked him. With his frail physique, Robert crumpled under the onslaught, and in the process his inhibitor broke. The children holding him down turned instantly to metal, as did the children that made contact with his skin when they hit him. In all, 4 children were transmuted that day. Robert ran home, looking for his parents, but instead found men in suits waiting for him. Thinking he was going to jail for what he had done, he tried to escape, but they were to fast and too strong. Soon he was on a helicopter, flying toward a secret base in the mountains of the northwestern United States.

Drugged, beaten, and afraid for both himself and his parents, Robert layed helplessly in the cabin as he was transported. In his delerium, he even imagined he heard people talking into his head as they passed over the sight of some crater...

"You alright kid? Just hang in there. After I get this one up, you are my next stop. And whoever did this is going to regret it..."

Robert found the voice comforting, but even though he was only 12, he knew it was his own imagination. When he arrived at the base, the experiments began again, and buried memories blended with the present. At times he thought he saw his parents pass by, injured and weak, with looks of resigned sadness on thier faces. They said something to him he thought, about being sent away, that they were sorry they couldn't take care of him anymore... but he could only remember bits. Finally, he was too tired to go on. He barely noticed the pain anymore, and it was with a curious detachment that he watched the shadows in the corner of the room coalesce into a man and slam the gaurds into the wall. Thinking then that the creature was going to kill him, Robert struggled weakly, but as he was strapped down there was little use.

"Don't worry kid... Robert. We will get you out of here. Just hold onto me..."

Frightened of touching anyone, the stranger seemed to read his mind, and wrapped him in a blanket after black tendrils ripped apart the table he was on, freeing him. Then the stranger folded the darkness around them. They vanished from the cell and reapeared high in the sky, looking down on a military complex hidden by the mountains. Then Robert saw a light falling from the sky, and heard a whistling, like in cartoons when something is dropped from really high up...

And then the light streaked past him, shattering the mountains beneath him, and destroying the base that he had been in only moments before. Debris shot toward him as he floated in the sky, but before he could even think to fear, the speading rocks were consumed by darkness. Then the man started to speak before Robert, worn past his meager endurance, fell into unconsciousness.

"I hope this is the right path..."
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Darren, Truthseeker

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Darren, Truthseeker

Darren's early life was fairly common for a mutant. He lived in a first world country, in a middle class home. He was the first of 2.5 children, and recieved an average education in an unexceptional school. Though Darren always yearned for more, and sensed a greater meaning in life, he found little to encourage him. While he was gifted, neither his parents nor his school were prepared to help him achieve his potential. And though he seemed to possess a deep insight into philosophy and religion, his traditional protestant upbringing only served to limit him. Only when Darren's mutation manifested, allowing him to shift through time and space to avoid a particularly unpleasant school bully, was he finally given the attention he was due, but for all the wrong reasons.

In a society that was ambivalent towards mutants, and with parents who desperately wanted 'normal' children, Darren would have been doomed to a life of isolation and rejection if not for Charles Xavier's Institute. Seeking some way back to normalcy, Darren's mother had found a boarding school that took in 'special' students and taught them to control their powers. Darren was quickly shipped off, and despite the pain of being rejected by his parents, was able to find happiness. Darren was finally given the education he deserved, and was able to make a place for himself within the mutant community. Since they were the source of his recognition, and his way to a better life, Darren gained a great deal of mastery over his powers, focusing on them with more drive than the others of his class.

After graduating, Darren went on to a masters, and then a doctorate, in theoretical physics. Using his powers in conjunction with his scientific understanding, Darren made incredible scientific breakthroughs. But the more he accomplished, the more depression crept up on him. His family still only barely communicated with him. His fame limited his relationships, as often people were only interested in him for they could gain from him. And it seemed to him that there should be something more to life, but he could not find it. He had learned long ago in his childhood that questions of meaning and purpose were irrelevant, and thus he had no tools with which to find answers to his existential questions.

While Darren was dealing with his personal demons, he shut himself off from the world. Sadly, he chose the time when the world needed him most. It was during this period that the creature known as Onslaught broke into his universe to consume the minds of all those within. Darren had postulated that other universes existed, had even seen examples of them in the files of the Xavier Institute. Of those on Earth that might have stood a chance at stopping the creatures entry, Darren was one of the few. But Darren was not even aware that there was a crisis. When he realized what was going on, most of his world had already been consumed. He could feel the entity clawing at his mind, trying to consume him. Using all of his knowledge, and all of his power, Darren attempted to shift himself out of the reality, away from the monster that had come to take his soul. The creature pulled at the very fabric of space, thwarting his efforts, but when he thought all was lost, Darren was finally able to pull away. In his mind, he could see a consuming void in front of him, and the terrible entity behind. Using the energy of the void, Darren pulled away from the creature, but before the void could consume him, Darren applied all his will to disengaging from the inescapable spiral he had entered. And he broke away, slingshotted through realities.

Darren found himself hurtling through the multiverse, unable to control his course, his senses totally askew. He would surely have drifted for all eternity had not another stopped his motion. When Darren was able to again see clearly his surroundings, he floated high above earth, but not his earth, and always out of the corner of his eye, he could see the void that had nearly consumed him. Another stood beside him, one whom Darren sensed was possessed of great power, but whose form was shrouded.

"Why are you still here Darren? You escaped death, but to what purpose?"

"I... I don't know. I didn't want to be consumed by that thing, so I ran. If not for my powers..."

"Do you really think it was your 'powers' that brought you here? That let you stand here now? You are more than your power; I see in you what you cannot. If only you could abandon the trappings of power, the pointless distractions you cling to, you would see it as well. Sadly, by denying the cycle, by evading death, you have set yourself outside the cycle... for most this means a slow fading until they are so difuse that they can once more lose themselves to the spiral... but for you there may be another way..."

"I don't understand. Who are you? Where is this place? What am I doing here?"

"I am Shaman of this world. It's people are mine to protect. And you are here because in you I sensed a both a soul that could be pure, and a heart that would defend. I give you leave to pass into my world.

As to where you are, and why you are here... You are on the threshold of death. You have escaped it's pull, but it still waits for you. By escaping it's pull you have left behind your journey to enlightenment. Normally you would be set back countless steps, but I see another way for you. If you could enter the void again, of your own will, detached as you are, and with me as an anchor, you might be able to set yourself back on the cycle, but at an accelerated rate. You would be born again, into my world, and learn the lessons your soul needs, then die again. You would return here, to repeat the process... It would be arduous, but you would have companions..."

"How do you know all this?! How can I..."

"Trust what I'm saying? I'm dead. I have chosen to stay with this world, in the collective consciousness of the people of my world, so that I can guide them away from destruction, protect them, and maybe one day see them ascend to something more. I have seen other realities, I have seen the spiral of worlds, and I see it mirrored in the soul of each entity. I also recognize the unity of the soul across the multiverse, and in you I see one who was on the path to unification. But you have no way to trust me but faith, and the instincts that I know are screaming to you that I am right... But don't decide now. As I said, you will have companions... Go join them, watch them, come to know them, for they will be a torch to light the darkness to come, for both you and the multiverse..."

"I... Alright. Show me where to go..."
_______

Darren appeared before his future companions. He watched them. He came to know them. And then he took a leap of faith...
_______

A voice spoke in Darren's mind, calling to him; "Darren, wake up, it's Randy. We need you again..."

Darren found himself hooked up to medical equipment, with a doctor calmly pronouncing his time of death... until the machinery showed life in him still. Darren unhooked himself... But why was he calling himself Darren? Janet got up and unhooked herself, realizing that something wasn't quite right. Then, a shadow descended over the room and the medical staff stopped moving entirely. A figure cloaked in darkness approached her, but rather than being frightened, she was oddly comforted.

"Darren, hurry up, you need to go..."

"Who are you? Why... My name is Janet..."

"...Here we go again..."
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Nike, Goddess of Victory

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Nike, Goddess of Victory

For ages Nike was the hand of fate, granting victory at her whim, guiding the course of civilizations. Hers was a grand calling... For the first few millenia. Then it was just a game to entertain her through the long years. Then it was a job, and finally it was now just a pain in the ass. And she didn't even get respect any longer. No one appreciated the gods anymore. She was just another pretty face cast in marble to them, the power of her favor forgotten for the far less fickle aid of science. Was it so much to ask for a little respect? Maybe a burnt cow or two occassionally? The best she could get now was a shoe named after her.

Well, at least she could admit she was just a relic, unlike some of the other gods. But so what? She still existed, and living in the past just made you a part of it. No more, she decided, would she live apart from the world. She would go out and experience it! And she did. For the better part of a century. It was fun, really it was, but after a while everything loses it's luster. And were the mortals really all that much different? A farmer was a farmer, whether in Athens or in Kansas. A lawyer was a vulture wherever you went, and merchants would still sell you their own child just to turn a profit. It was all so... Old. Nike contemplated just going to sleep for a few centuries; if nothing else, she could just wake up every once in a while and look at the new devices the mortals created. That was always fun.

As she thought, she played with one of the mortal's machines. You grabbed a stuffed toy with a mechanical hand controled from a distance. Somehow the machine was still able to thwart her on occassion, and the novelty was a pleasant distraction. But when she looked up from her game, preparing to return to Olympus, a surprise was waiting for her. The Lost Souls were sitting in the little pizza shop with her. She had read articles on them, even watched a battle or two of thiers. Hmm... Maybe this world wasn't quite done entertaining her after all...
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