Who Watches the Watchmen?

Snake

Snake's breath clouded in the cold morning air. Three days had passed since he had begun tracking vigilantes down, and now his searching had brought him to this... place.
It was a burned and broken husk, the carapace of what had once been a building. Snake found no traps, not even locks on the large doors. Quietly, he entered, his stealth as much through habit as design.
Inside, the sight of an empty hospital reception greeted him. The pattern on the wallpaper had long since faded, the white floor turned yellow. The desk was still cluttered with clipboards, paperwork left unfinished.
Calmly, Snake continued through the abandoned halls, ghostly quiet enveloping him. The government had never explained what had happened at the General. Conspiracy theorists had gone wild about viruses killing everyone or turning them into zombies, a secret biological or chemical weapon being accidentally unleashed, even an alien waking up during autopsy.
Whatever it was, Snake didn't care. He was here for one reason only.
Motion caught his eye. Snake turned to see a man standing in the doorway to his right, garbed all in black, face hidden behind a plague mask. Above the doorway was a battered sign reading 'Psychological Therapy Unit'. The door was marked with a bloody handprint.
Snake cleared his head, then spoke.
"Pandemic. I have a proposal."

Sorry I haven't been on in a while, I've been distracted by a new dog.

Umbra

"Just meet me here again this time next week. I'll give you all the information then, but believe me, it wont be easy." Umbra nodded turning and sprinting away down an alley, climbing the nearest wall and up until she reaced the top of the near-by chruch.
"Holy shit..." Umbra murmered, "Well, I wasn't expecting that. I'm deffinatley there though," Why she was talking aloud, she would never know. Checking the watch on the inside of her wrist she foud that it was only 10:37, "Seriously? Christ..." She'd only been at this for a few years and she was still desperatly in need of adaptation to this life. Maybe that guy to teach her... Ah well, more fights to be fought tonight. She yawned as she dived into the night.

Quartermaster

"Goddamnit," I said through gritted teeth, as I tried to repair the door. By repair, I mean leaning it against where it used to be. I gave up and sat down. I thought about what had happened recently. I had helped in a fight and now that Snake guy wanted me to join a team of vigilantes. I laughed at the idea when another alarm went off.

"Great," I mumbled and picked up a pistol. I went to run when the door flew at me and hit me. I fell onto my back to see a big muscled figure walk towards me. I stood up and stumbled a little bit. I went to aim but realised that the pistol had been knocked out of my hand. I didn't fancy my chances in hand-to-hand combat, but I had no choice. I lunged and got a fist to the face. My knees gave out and I collapsed. The last thing I saw was more men pour into the room and the muscled guy pick me up before my vision went dark.

OK, votes from the DT have been counted. We're going forward in 3rd person. Stick to it!

Pandemic

The musty air surrounded Pandemic as he worked, his mind completely focused on the success of his newest experiment. His eyes flicked to the whiteboard across the room, examining the design and procedures he had to follow. The room was familiar to him; but boredom, he felt none. Air tight jars bound with tube punctured lids lay in front of the scientist as he slipped into a deep thought of his hoped outsome for the project.

'Blindfever' was an inhumane, yet harshly effective virus that Pandemic had planned to use on any criminals with lethal potential, not petty crooks. It was the projects job to stir a fever-like state within its infectee almost instantly, then flow through the blood stream towards eye tissue. From here it would irritate the walls of the blood vessels within the eye, and become so agonising and unbearable that the infectee would go mad with pain and claw out his own eyes. Disgusting and horrible yes, but effective too. Pandemic had no feelings for those who broke the law, nor those who stayed within its boundaries, yet his methods worked, and that was all that mattered.

The scientist heard footsteps. Some one was here. Pandemic snatched his mask from the wooden table across from him, and stalked towards the direction of the noise. The intruder was down in the intensive care corridor, just a few paces from Pandemic's experiment room. He swiftly moved into the shadows on the left hand side of the doorway marking the pyschological therapy unit. A sharp breath informed him that the man in the ruins had spotted him.

"Pandemic" the voice spoke. The scientist's ears listened in. "I have a proposal".

"By all means, propose" he said back, his deep, sinister voice echoing from the darkness "you have my undivided attention".

Snake

"You have my undivided attention." Pandemic intoned, his voice surprisingly deep. Snake gave his customary explanation of the situation.
"...and so I am in need of some... reinforcements." he concluded. Pandemic cocked his head, clearly thinking over the situation.
"Very well." he spoke at last, "I will find you when the time comes." he held out his hand, and Snake planted a grubby piece of paper with the location of the meeting place scribbled hastily upon it.
"See you then, doc." Snake called out as he left. Pandemic gave no response; Snake chanced a look backward, confirming that Pandemic had already disappeared, no doubt continuing important work.

Snake pushed open the door to his parents' house with not inconsiderable effort, casting his eyes across the hallway to ensure nothing had been disturbed. Nothing had.
He quickly made his way across the room to the study. He had one more vigilante to contact, and he knew exactly how to do it.
He started up the old computer, wincing as its dust-encrusted innards screamed protest. The old box had laid dormant for several years; Snake had little time for the attractions of the internet.
He opened the e-mail folder. The little rodent inside was running slow- poor bastard. Short of twiddling his thumbs, Snake amused himself by gazing about at the house which he had spent his childhood years in- years he remembered less and less with each passing day.
The computer beeped. He looked away from the picture on the wall- one of him out rowing with his father- to see that there was a new message in the inbox. There was no sender address, so he figured it was probably ham mail, or whatever it was called, but clicked on it absently.
Snake sat bolt upright. The message contained only three words.
I already know.
He smiled. Anonymous would be joining them after all.

Quartermaster

Quartermaster awoke to find himself in a wrecked room, stripped of his weapons and his hands tied behind his back. A thin man walked into the room. Quartermaster promised himself that the next person to walk into the room would die by his hand, gun, whatever, first. The big muscular man who knocked him out followed the thin man. Quartermaster sagged. They exited the room after scrounging around. Once they had left, he set to work about setting himself free from the rope that had been tied, albiet rather terribly. Quartermaster wriggled his hands around and the knot fell apart.

"Now time to get down to business," Q said to himself. He looked around and pressed a button hidden under the floorboard. A bookcase disappeared revealing a assortment of weapons.

"Time to do a bit of housekeeping," Q once again said to himself, as he cocked an UMP.45.

Tyrant, you really took your sweet time

Snake
Snake checked his watch one more time. 12:01. Nobody would come. Just when the earth was most needy, everybody had somewhere better to be.
The moon was the only source of light in the alleyway, but it revealed more than he wanted to see. Dirt, litter and the remaining bloodstains of the previous week covered everything. A hobo had been crashed out here when Snake had arrived, but had vanished at the sight of his sword.
Snake drew the weapon now, gazing at the shimmering surface in the moonlight. Every scratch in its otherwise perfect finish had a story; some he remembered, others were long forgotten.
He continued to watch the moonbeams playing off the sword's surface, but did not see them. His mind was wandering, trying in vain to scour memories of his past, trying to regain his faltering grip on those few he still retained.
At once, a shape caught his eye, reflected upon the sword's surface. He spun, ready to confront whoever was there.
"Are you always this jumpy around guests?"

Umbra

She kind of snuck up on him, casting her reflection in his sword long enough so that he'd noticed then jumped back about 10 foot so that it appeared that she hadn't been that close.
"Are you always this jumpy around guests?" Umbra asked getting a grunt in response as he sheathed his sword. "Sorry I'm late, I couldn't find a way up," She debated whether or not to pull down her hood, whether or not she was in good company and if she could trust him. She decided against it, better off being safe than sorry.
"You're the only to have turned up so far," He said turning his back on Umbra, looking out over the city once again.
"The only one?" She asked, "So there are others who are going to join in this meet?" Umbra was shocked at first but then decided that is was probably an over reaction and she shouldn't be suprised if she were invited to someplace and not be the centre of attention. Am I truely that naive? She thought to herself.
"Of coarse there are 'others', as you put it," Someone else spoke, as it was not the voice of the man before her.

Quartermaster

"Of course there are 'others', as you put it," Quartermaster spoke.

"You arrived," Snake said.

"Of course," Q replied.

"What is that on your clothes?" The girl asked.

"Blood," I replied bluntly, "I got attacked by thugs. They paid the price for their foolishness. However that is a story for another day, also I really can't be asked to go over it," Q paused for a moment, "So who else are we waiting for?"

"Someone called Pandemic and another mysterious person," Snake answered.

"How long do you think we'll be waiting?" Q asked again.

The Snake just merely shrugged.

Catena:

After hours of debating with herself, Catena took the long way to the alley in which she was told to meet the others. She wasn't sure she wanted to become involved with them, and was uncomfortable with the idea of being at the beck and call of some criminally insane man of questionable intentions.

As she approached the alley she analysed the people waiting there. Most were tense and wary, though one was clearly at ease. One of them recognised her footsteps from behind them and nodded to another.

"More company," the voice said, sounding interested.

Skipping any sort of grand entrance, Catena walked nonchalantly into the group of people. She faced Snake squarely and asked, "I'm here, now what?"

Snake

"Now we wait," Snake replied. He didn't want to come across as overly cryptic, but until everybody was assembled, he would speak only when necessary. No sneak previews, no hints as to what he had to say. When Pandemic arrived, he would explain. He would reveal his troubles, and the course of action he intended. The floor would be open for questions, but only when everybody was here.
Pandemic would come, he knew. He would communicate again with Anonymous when the time was right. Until then, the only course of action was waiting.
So he waited.

Pandemic

The backalleys were a suitable place for Pandemic to meet this gang of crime-fighting misfits, he was a creature of the night; intending for himself not to be seen. Although he did not care about being noticed, he did care about the possible consequences of his mutual reaction to law enforcers, a reaction of which he held similar to criminals. He had no time for either.

He walked through the closed sewer, his secret passage around the city. It was closed after the Terrakine Superbug overran the hospital in which he dwelled. The government were scared of the waterproofness of the superbug; to seal this fear they took extreme precautions to stop it from escaping. Pandemic scaled the security ladder and threw the manhole cover away. He rose from the sewer into the busy road, cars swerving to avoid the cloaked figure. The manhole slid closed, and unphased by the racing traffic, Pandemic began to walk slowly to the pavement.

Black. Pandemic was launched across the street, five metres from his original position. The car stopped and a small man emerged. His mouth opened but nothing was said, his shock must have caught in his throat as the creature in the form of a medieval plague doctor simply stood up, and continued en route to his waypoint.

Words. His cloak waved behind him, as his footsteps grew closer to the group in the dusty alleyway. A homeless man stared fearfully at him, too stunned to speak. The vigilante flicked his baton from his belt and thwacked the innocent across the skull, causing no real damage, but producing enough shock to knock him out.

"I have arrived," Pandemic's deep and husky voice sliced the air. "Speak now, I hae much to be doing".

Now things can really get interesting.
Also, I know there's a lot here, but all the information you could possibly want about the Chacs is in this post, so please read!

Snake

Pandemic's voice echoed in the alleyway.
"Speak now, I have much to be doing."
Snake turned to address him, his pivot one of a deliberately slow pace.
"No. You have nothing now. Nothing but what I am about to tell you." He pivoted again, turning to face each vigilante in turn.
"Why is it we are here? Because we stand for what is right. Against evil. Against injustice. Alone, we are strong. Alone, we make a difference to this city. But there is a whole world out there, a whole world which is about to face the greatest threat in humanity's existence. Alone, we are weak, powerless to prevent the inevitable. But a collective-" he gestured to the heroes assembled around him- "A collective can succeed. And we will succeed."
Snake paused, and Umbra's voice filled the momentary silence.
"I don't know about you guys, but I wouldn't mind knowing who it is we're saving the world from."
Snake laughed, turning now to face her full on.
"Have you heard of the Mayan prophecy, Umbra?"
The girl nodded, but remained silent.
"The Mayan calendar ends on December twenty-first, two-thousand and twelve. Historians have speculated for years as to what this means. Most regard the prophecy with either superstition or contempt. But not everyone.
The Chacs are a remnant Mayan cult. Almost no information on them exists, save one thing: they want to see the world end as the calendar prophesied, even if they have to do it themselves. Of course, most historians regard this as nothing more than a legend. But there was one man, Arthur Cooke, who believed. He spent his life investigating the Chacs; he was on the verge of discovering the location of their mythical temple city, somewhere in the Peruvian Andes, when this happened:"
Snake reached into his pocket and pulled out a photograph, which he held up so everyone could see.
"Arthur Cooke was murdered at eleven forty-two am on Friday, August fifteenth. His heart was cut out of his chest while he was still alive. Police found this at the scene." Reaching into his pocket, Snake produced a knife. "The blade is carved from a single shard of obsidian, a volcanic stone found in South America. The weapon's name is a tecpatl. It is a sacrificial knife used by Mesoamerican civilisations such as the Maya for the ritual removal of a man's heart as a sacrifice to the gods. The police dismissed it as the work of some homocidal psychopath, but the truth is this was the real deal. The Chacs are active on the global stage, which can mean only one thing: a real rough Christmas."
"How do you know this is the work of the Chacs?" Quatermaster asked, stepping forward from the impromptu circle which had formed around the speaker. "The cops might be right. It might just be some random nutjob after all."
"Then riddle me this:" Snake leaned in conspiratorially, "Why would a random nutjob burn the doctor's notes?"

Umbra

"Then riddle me this; why would a random nutjob burn the doctor's notes?" They disolved into silence, like an internal debate was happening between them. Everyone else just stood there making no move at all, until Umbra spoke up.
"Ummm... Might I make a little comment?" All eyes turned to her, making her feel more than a little uncomfortable, "The Mayan calender didn't account for leep years, as far as I know, which means that the world should have ended quite a few years ago..." The man calling himself Snake nodded in reply.
"That is true, however the Chacs seem to have been building up their forces for this perticular date,"
"Maybe there was a second calendar, more 'prophetic' and acurate version, that was found and kept hidden by the Chacs," Umbra surgested shrugging.