[Center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/736x/b1/fc/17/b1fc17af0430a5833def86505ea56291.jpg[/img][/center]


“A pleasure to finally meet you, Peter Quill.” The voice was the carefully constructed purr of Aristocracy which managed to be a universal sign of ‘brat with too much power.’ In this case though, he knew it to be a carefully constructed act around a man that was truly dangerous, not the whimsy he claimed to be.

“Collector…. I had heard you were looking for me…an invite would have sufficed.” Peter, admittedly, had looked and felt better. Bound to the chair he was sat on by the mag-cuffs strapping his wrists behind him, the fetching bruises across his features gave some idea as to the level of resistance he had put up. The Badoon mercenaries had found him in one of Knowhere's divest of dive bars, and while they had no doubt been instructed to bring him alive to their temporary boss his long running hostility with their people had likely but some real motive behind their actions.

“One of the first humans in the wider galaxy, stranded out of time … and the current Star Lord, a unique mix, wouldn't you say?” Wherever the grunts had taken him was a luxuriously furnished room, no doubt in one of the bleeding expensive hotels operating within Knowhere, catering to the upper class of mining and gang bosses sent to inspect their investments in the far flung lawless colony. The Collector himself moved across the room in a flutter of affluent furs, drawing closer and closer to the bound human as he spoke.

“I've never claimed to be anything other than extraordinary.” Peter smiled up at the Collector as he drew near, although he shot a brief wink to one of the Badoon who in short order returned with a snarl, raising a fist to strike their prisoner again, before the Collector shot him a withering look.

“Do not harm the specimen more than you already have, fool.” The ancient being spat with venom which momentarily surpassed the curated impression of a spoiled whimsy, something of the truly ancient being pushing through the surface.

“But you are making a mistake of course, one I did try to warn your friends here of.” Peter's smile didn't fade as he leaned back. The dark smudges across his features were already beginning to fade, a sure sign of the power of the Star Lord flowing through his (at least partially) human frame. One of the Badoon responded with a grim snarl that could have been a dismissive grunt in their own culture, but the degree of comfort that Peter spoke with was enough to unnerve some of the others, and definitely for the Collector to raise a well maintained eyebrow.

“What is he talking about?” The Collector’s focus lost whatever theatricality remained; the full force of his stare landed on the largest of the Badoon, which judging by the embellishment of their traditional armour, was likely the leader of the hired band of reptilian mercenaries.

“A foolish warning he gave us, that we should fear what the other ‘Guardians’ would do. We subdued their leader fine enough, what could his lessers threaten us?” The Badoon was either stupid or confident (perhaps both) to not take the obvious amusement of their prisoner as a threat and responded without hesitation, a sure sign he at least believed the words.

“That's the problem with you types, you think a leader means being the big hitter. That's not being a leader, being a leader is knowing when to bring on your pinch hitter.” Peter barely flinched as the reptilian Badoon craned down to snarl into his face, the foul stench of semi-rotten meat pulsing off elongated fangs, right until a Badoon standing at the floor to ceiling windows of the suite called out.

“Uh…something's coming at us boss.”

Both the Collector and the Badoon leader responded with an aggravated “What is it?” Although the former would almost certainly be more offended at the comparison.

“Don't worry, he'll tell you.”

The words momentarily snapped some attention back to Quill just a second before the on rushing shape came into view. For the briefest flicker of time the window seemed to be filled with the shape of an almost spherical orb of wood. Not an entirely cohesive structure but instead a vast tangle of branch and root, the span of dark brown interrupted by fluttering of green moss and flowering plants. If anyone had the time to ponder this, perhaps they may have considered how unlikely it would be to find a tree on Knowhere. It was unlikely they did.

The impact came a moment later and glass that was made to withstand a potential armed rebellion from the industrial miners below buckled, then exploded inwards.

Before the Badoon could response the vast tangle of root and branch exploded outwards, whip cord vines and thick trunks of wood slammed into metal and scale and proved the victor, those standing closer to the window who had managed to keep their footing immediately sent sprawling as the botanical claymore reformed into a bipedal shape.

“I AM….GROOT!” It bellowed, a haunting visage of wooden fangs roaring into the face of the Badoon leader before swatting the usually towering reptile away with a swing of a hastily remade wooden limb. At the heart of the reborn monster a smaller figure darted, having sheltered from the impact within the mass of arboreal armour. 

“Still a stupid plan, Quill.” Rocket yelled over the continuous din of combat, the diminutive genetic marvel diving through the legs of a grasping Badoon before coming up behind Peter, admittedly flash of bright light all the notice before a welding tool cut through the clamping cuffs holding him in place, just in time for the human to dive forwards out of his chair and avoid a sweep blow from a Badoon.

“It's working isn't it?” Peter half laughed back, twisting in place to bring what had previously been his chair-prison up as a weapon to clatter against the back of the lunging Badoon's head, the force enough to shatter the furniture and send the mercenary sprawling.

“Yeah, not if he gets away.” Rocket pointed to the far doorway out of the suite that the Collector was in the process of opening.

“I wouldn't worry about that, Co-Captain.”

“It's my farking ship Quill!”

As the two continued to brawl with their respective enemies while bickering with each other, the automatic door out of the suite slid open with the tall form of the Collector beginning to exit, his eyes back on the brawl before unknowingly colliding with a force blocking his path.

“Room service?”

The Collector was far more used to looking down on the denizens of the galaxy, his now otherwise extinct kind being elongated beyond the heights of most, yet when he turned to face the woman blocking his way he found himself looking up into the disconcertingly charming features of a blonde human woman. It took only a moment to realise she was hovering in the air, a revelation that was little comfort in the situation.

“Whatever he is paying you, I am doubtful it makes what I'll provide to simply step aside.” The ancient being spoke to the girl, keeping his sudden desperation out of his easy Aristocratic tone, although the theatric concerned wince of the woman soon put down any hope of that working.

“Sorry, I'm more of a personal growth goal orientated person.” Kara's wince because a friendly smile, just a moment before she flicked the Collector square at the centre of his forehead.

The force met the personal shielding of the Collector with detonation force, blowing the ancient being back into the suite with a concussive force which also shattered the doorway and ripped partly into the wall surrounding it. The human-like woman hovering place was barely pushed back in the air, having covered her eyes with her arm for a moment before darting into the room. The white and red of her outfit was momentarily a blur, the cape fluttering at her shoulders swirling around her.

“You think they've noticed now!?” Rocket yelled out just as a disabling blast from his weapon left a Badoon convulsing on the floor, even as alarm systems blared through the hotel, the very slight delay between initial impact and the current moment catching up to the response. 

“But it really was fun to throw you at a building!” Kara chimed with positivity as she swept past, using the pure force of her speed to send the very last of the up and able Badoon sprawling a moment before they would have attempted to slam a rather large metallic object into the back of Rocket.

“You're both impossible.” Rocket exhaled, waving a dismissive hand in the general direction of both Starlord and Kara, before heading towards the stricken form of the Collector, who was just about recovering from his sprawled in the corner state.

“Let us not be…hasty..with any decisions we are making.” The Collector managed as he forced himself to his feet, pressing himself somewhat into the corner of the now ravaged luxury street, one of his intricate bracelets beginning to pulse red from a small light.

“He's called for aid, the request is off station.” Kara offered to her allies, rubbing one ear slightly as the powerful signal pulsed through the air, beyond the senses of any others present. 

“Don't worry, buddy, once we have what we need, we'll be out of here in a tick.” Peter offered a thumbs up to the Collector before turning back to his compatriots. “Get the Ship, I'll be fine here.”

“Ugh shes going to carry us again isn't she.” Rocket grumbled before a more upbeat response rumbled out of his flora companion.

“I am GROOT.”

“Yeah well, I ‘don't’ like it.” The conversation no doubt continuing after the Kryptonian sweat up the pair of Guardians, leaving Peter alone for the moment with the Collector, his voice turning serious 

“I do not know who, but someone has begun removing the coordinates of a very specific planet from every database I've managed to trick my way into.” He came up just short of the lanky robed creature, his friendly smile entirely gone. “Luckily, you're something of a hoarder, and I just know you have some very fancy, closed off, databases, rustling around in that complex of yours. So we are going on a little side trip together.”

“You'll regret crossing me, Peter Quill.’

“Perhaps, but you wouldn't be the first.”

[hr]

[b][i]-Hours Later-[/i][/b]

Local security had already set up a cordon around the shattered luxury suite, but that was nothing that would have stopped her even if she had been unwelcome.

Knowhere had little in the way of true law, but it did have tiers of security, and the kidnapping of one of its most affluent clients was something which required a response approach what could be considered a formal investigation. Any idea of crime scene sanctity was swept aside at her presence, for most of the galaxy knew for whom her blade cut.

The smooth and graceful build of her suit barely made a noise as she ducked beneath the ruined remains of a doorway to the enter the suite, the white and black plating of her combat suit highlighting every deadly inch of her, even as her vision swept around the sight, the display of her helm's HUD reading out trace evidence as she detected it.

“Step aside, give me the room.” A few of the security officers lingered in an attempt to complete their own investigation as she had arrived, but with the barked metallic tone of her words through the helm they were quick to scatter. She did not wait for them to finish before she placed the holocommunication device before her, although by the time the being on the other end flickered into existence she was alone in the ruined space.

“Greetings, daughter.” The form of the mad Titan was blurred by the vast distance between them, but the power of his presence still bled through the scrap code of the technology, barely able to withstand his majesty.

“Hail Mighty Thanos, I have arrived at the scene of the distress beacon as commanded.” Gamora bowed her head deeply as she knelt among the devastation, the slight change in the flickering of the light of her communicator her only tell that her master had turned towards her. “The Emperor of Spartax will soon have his errant heir returned, un your name.”

“The parameters have changed, dearest daughter, the whims of the Spartoi no longer concern me, no matter their offer of aid.” This revelation caused her to look up, the black glass dome of her helm failing to entirely hide her surprise.

“My Lord? Then why do I hunt the Milano?”

“Your quarry has acquired a greater prize in his travels, bring me each of these Guardians, or if you cannot, prevent others from claiming them.” The form of Thanos crackled before turning away. “Failure cannot be an option, I will provide this news to your sister as well. See that it is you who completes this task.” Before Gamora could speak again the image of Thanos vanished, crackling away until it was nothing but empty air once more.

Gamora paused for a moment of thought and respite before standing once more.

“As you wish, Father.”