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Swolligator September 24th, 2011 7:50 PM

OOC: Atlantis Arising [M]

IC thread can be found here.
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The lost city of Atlantis, hidden beneath the waves and the annals of history is one written about in nearly every civilization. A place that once held a civilization many years old and incredibly advanced that in one cataclysmic moment was destroyed and sunk beneath the waves. Many people spend their whole lives just looking for evidence of its existence. Yet none have succeeded in uncovering any of its secrets as it lays dormant at the bottom of the ocean.

However, to a select group of the populace, Atlantis is a reality for them. Remnants of the Atlantean Civilization washed up on shores around the world and continued to live with the humans. Bringing with them their vast knowledge, they helped the humans to grow and develop. They managed the building of the Great Pyramids on the Giza Plateau, the construction of the Great Wall of China as well as other great marvels. They brought the human world from its knees to its feet. Even some of the world’s greatest leaders were Atlantean. They brought a new era for Human Civilization.

Recent archaeological digs in Egypt have uncovered evidence of the Atlanteans presence within the human community. Forced to come out of the closet, very few of the remaining families of true Atlanteans that still retain their ancestry have made their presence known. Possessing godly powers, these Atlanteans propose a bright new future as they begin to shed further light on their ancient civilization. Hidden in the populace, Atlantean descendants who have forgotten their ancestry lie dormant; their own past waiting to be revealed to them.

Now that the royal Atlantean families have revealed themselves, they show the world one of their most guarded kept secrets. Holding a brilliant crystal in the air, the Atlantean leaders proclaim the revival of their race. Around the world, people begin to find strange tattoo markings appearing on their bodies as well as the development of powers. Powers that are not accessible to humans. Jealous, envious and fearful of a takeover, the human leaders band together in a secret UN meeting to decide what to do about their competition. Meanwhile, the Atlantean royal families begin working on a secret project, one they guard jealously and hide from not just the public, but even their own people.

Who are you?

It has been a week since the Atlanteans revealed themselves. As the gears of fate turn in motion, the world moves closely to a new era, one that is on very thin ice. On the day of the unveiling of the crystal you find your skin itch as a strange marking appears on your body where there shouldn’t be one. You are an Atlantean. You wait with anticipation as your ability slowly emerges and you can begin to realise what power you hold. The world is very fragile however, and you could be the person who keeps it steady, or pushes it over the edge.

Everyone is different, and that goes for Atlanteans too. Whether you are full Atlantean, half, or an orphan, you do not have the same power as another Atlantean. Some come close, but none are the same.


Main Information:
Name: (Full Name)
Age: (14-21)
Atlantean Tattoo: (describe where it turned up, what it looks like and any other details)
Physical: (minimum one paragraph)
Clothing: (minimum one paragraph)
Personality: (minimum two paragraphs)

History: (minimum two paragraphs)

Ability: (minimum two paragraphs)

Writing Sample: (something from a previous roleplay or a fresh, written sample will suffice)


  • Follow all PokéCommunity and Roleplay Corner rules.
  • This roleplay is rated M for Mature, so the overuse of course language or sexual references is forbidden.
  • Activity is essential. While this roleplay is not a fast moving one, becoming inactive for over a week is intolerable.
  • Godmodding, powerplaying, bunnying and being overly-powerful is strictly forbidden without permission.
  • No SPAM and going off-topic. Please keep all OOC in the OOC thread.
  • Please, be reasonable.

Background Information

The Five Atlantean Royal Families
The House of Fire: Lead by Blaze Nalaar, a Pyrokinetic.
The House of Earth: Lead by Cobalt Chimura, a Terrakinetic.
The House of Wind: Lead by Thalia Windspeaker, an Aerokintic.
The House of Water: Lead by River Beleren, a Hydrokinetic.
The House of Wood: Lead by Justin Oak, a Dendrokinetic.
A List of Used Atlantean Abilities
  • Atlantean Armour – Oakley North
  • Atomic Ferrokinesis - Archie Stevens
  • Anuramorphism - Erika Onzanem
  • Bone Swords - Kieran Davis
  • Botanokinesis – Rose Oak
  • Crystallisation - Delta Mayor
  • Dendrokinesis – Justin Oak
  • Dream Manipulation - Krystal Kollyns
  • Electrokinesis – Leon Nef
  • Emotional Empathy - Brian Sheppard
  • Energy Conversion - Jericho Heiko
  • Environmental Adaptability - Garrett Flynn
  • Extra Arms - Adrian Santoro
  • ForceFields - Fletcher White
  • Hydrokinesis – River Beleren
  • Increased Brain Activity – Annie Falkner
  • Intangibility – Natalya Zaytsev
  • Invisibility – Helena Andersson
  • Lumokinesis - Leo Archibald
  • Muscle Memory Mimicry - Antonia Costa
  • Optikinesis – Michael Cale
  • Property Osmosis – Alexander Gaile
  • Pyrokinesis – Blayze Nalaar
  • Redirection – Joshua Meier
  • Centrifugal Rotation - Chrysta Montague
  • Smoke Mimicry/Manipulation – Christian Calaway
  • Tail Appendage – Atticus Forsberg
  • Technokinesis – Nikolai Afon
  • Teleportation – Jeremy Kyle
  • Terrakinesis - Cobalt Chimura
  • Thought Projection – Daniel Cain
  • Vectokinesis – Cira Gaile
  • Ferrokinesis - Jason Weaver (deceased)
  • Hallucinogenic Saliva – Carmilla Romanos (deceased)
  • Pyric Aura – Ludmilla Caruso (deceased)
  • Spike Projection - Andrey Moruyev (deceased)
  • Vocalkinesis- Sebastian Mayer (deceased)
Theme Songs:
Atlantis - Two Steps from Hell
Secret Crowds - Angels & Airwaves

Accepted Atlanteans

雷影 イチロ as Michael Cale: Multi-Vision/Optikinesis
Skymin as Oakley North: Atlantean Growth Armour
Raikiri as Christian Calaway: Smoke Manipulation
Silver Rogue as Nikolai Afon: Technokinesis
Supervegeta as Leon Nef: Electrokinesis
Conjurer as Ludmilla Caruso: Pyric Aura
Wymsical as Jason Weaver: Ferrokinesis
Red's Hawt Chibi Pellipers as Helena Andersson: Invisibility
TornZero as Cira Gaile: Vectokinesis/Property Osmosis
Kiklion as Jericho Heiko: Energy Conversion
The Final Watchman as Brian Sheppard: Emotional Empathy
Nakuzami as Krystal Kollins: Dream Manipulation
PkMn Trainer Yellow as Erika Onzanem: Anuramorphism
The warden as Archie Reece Stevens: Atomic Ferrokinesis
Retro Bug as Delta Mayor : Crystallisation
Lt Col Fantastic as Garrett Daniel Flynn : Environmental Adaptability
Sir Bastian as Leo Archibald : Lumokinesis
Arctos as John Harker : Hemokinesis

Skymin September 25th, 2011 1:37 AM

1 Attachment(s)
Main Information:
Name: Oakley North
Age: Sixteen and a half (born 12th October)
Height: 157cm / 5' 2"
Weight: 48kg / 106lbs
Location: England

Atlantean Tattoo: Her tattoo is a spiral, two lines curving around a singular dot at the top of her spine. It is show in the attachment below and is similar to her brother's, only spinning in the opposite direction.

Physical: Oakley is fair in all aspects of her body. Her long, ringleted hair with a clean and neat fringe practically glows a light blonde, her skin pale and unblemished by pimples (apart from a mole on her chin and small scratches on her face) and her face quite attractive. She is less-than-averagely tall and less-than-averagely weighted. Her teeth are straight (due to years of braces when she was younger) and her eyes are a golden brown, practically melting in her eye sockets. She keeps herself clean and well groomed; there is rarely food on her face or dirt on her hands. She is perfectly average, except for the odd growth of armor on her right hand (though does spread to random parts of the body depending on the situation). Though whenever the armor grows, she keeps it in pristine condition. However, once it grows over her fingers, the tips become quite sharp and she has a tendency to accidentally scratch herself when she touches her face or arms.

Clothing: Oakley has always been partial to summer dresses, leggings and a pair of ballet flats, fit with appropriate accessories, such as an anklet, a simple necklace or a flower clip in her hair. During the winter though, she wears tight jeans and a cute top, with maybe a hoodie or a jacket. She dresses cute, simple and a little bit "classic", picking patterns, designs and accessories that seem to have come from an indie band's album art or a museum exhibition featuring 1800s daily life.
She used to wear her french, boarding school uniform, but since she moved back with her father, she hasn't touched them in some time. She tends to wear a lot of long sleeved shirts and coats to hide her ability.
Quirky and awkward are words that are frequently used to describe Oakley, though awkward is the more honest approach and quirky is just a filler space to protect her feelings. Sure, she can talk to people fine and she has no trouble making friends and she gets along fine with her brother, but as soon as something slides from the status quo, she crumbles, she panics, she stutters, she twitches, she has a hard time trying to find the right words. If something is causing a problem, she'll avoid it until it goes away or it becomes inevitably unnoticeable, and then she'll avoid it some more.

When nothing's bothering her, Oakley likes to enjoy her life. She can be fairly optimistic when things are going well or sticking to a routine.

She has a few habits that could be called annoying; constant tapping, playing with her fingers or touching her face when she's stressed or nervous. Which proves to be quite often. Whenever she's reminded of an unresolved issue, she says a few words to avoid the conversation, rubs her chin, starts to stutter and if the conversation hasn't changed yet, either excuses herself or stays silent. There have been a few situations though where conversations are unavoidable, such as when her brother moved to boarding school (in England), her mother's death and when she came home from school with a broken arm (though that conversation hasn't quite been touched yet, it seems to be inevitable.

Oakley has a style in the way she decorates or dresses; alternative or indie would be the best way to describe it. Not exactly hipster, but she likes to use Victorian, Elizabethan and Jacobean era with a contemporary mix of clothing, materials and accessories. She listens to different music and buys different furniture. She likes to be unique.

When push comes to shove, Oakley would be the one to run away. Only if her loved ones are in danger, especially her brother, is when she stands to fight, though she would do less punching and act more as a human shield or distraction.

FUN FACT: Oakley has a few talents other than her knack for finding antiques; she can play the piano quite well, speaks three different languages (English, French and Spanish. English and French are her strong points and barely keep up a conversation in Spanish (but enough to do some basic translations)) and is not a bad artist either.
Oakley was born into a loving family; an English father, a Canadian mother and a brother almost four years older than her.  Born in Toronto, Oakley spent the good part of her infant to toddler years playing with her older brother. He was kind, he was caring and he always looked out for her. She felt it most when the Toronto Riots started. She wasn't old enough to fully understand the matter, but she was old enough to feel the commotion and panic from it all; she spent a lot of the time snuggled up somewhere, not making much noise. The next big thing happened; her parents decided to move house away from Canada and to a different continent altogether; a little town in northern Spain, towards the border of France. Being barely old enough to even talk, she wasn't bothered by the whole move much, but showed small signs of withdrawal when she realised this was her new home and not some kind of holiday. 

As she grew up in this foreign country, Oakley learned a few languages; English, since that was her "native" tongue, Spanish, since that's where she lived, and French, due to being so close to the border, her mother's Canadian backgrounds and her brother's insistence on speaking it around the house. She started school where Spanish was now second nature to her and fitting in deemed to be a little difficult. Sure, she made a few friends, no problem, but her pale skin and blonde hair wasn't exactly Spanish and some of the boys in the class above her didn't take too kindly to that, even to go as so far to harass her in the streets. It didn't take long for her brother to catch on to her problems and quickly solve them.

When Oakley was around seven and in her second year of primary school, she watched her brother helplessly from the sidelines as he changed into a different person. This bothered Oakley, as everything had changed in the world, but one thing had remained a constant; her brother. When she talked to him though, she could feel the old him talking back to her. This gave her some relief, though nothing could prepare her for what happened next. Due to his refusal to talk to his parents properly, her brother was sent to an English boarding school. This was when her ticks started. 

Her constant, the one thing that had kept her strong these years, had gone. Having the emotional range of a seven year old, she spent a good lot of her days sitting in a corner, crying, and refusing to go back to school. Once the status quo had been broken, anything could change and Oakley did not want to fall back into a routine, only to watch it shatter in front of her eyes again. Her parents, fearing for her health, sent her to a doctor to try and find a reason for these panic attacks. At first, they thought she had Asperges Syndrome but in the end, she was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and given a year of psychotherapy and anti depressants to try and keep it under control. Whenever her brother rang from his school, Oakley never had the heart to tell him what was going on. She missed him dearly and often ended up crying after the conversation was over. But, after a year of her "treatments", her panic attacks and heavy stutters disappeared, leaving behind only traces of her ticks, ones which now only resurface in stressful situations and such. 

When they thought she was ready, her parents sent her to an All Girls Academy in France, despite her objections of wanting to go to her brother's school in England instead. As any interaction with him left Oakley in tears or heavy breathing (though this wasn't happening as severely after her psychotherapy finished) her parents decided that wasn't the best idea and so France it was. 

At first, France was intimidating. Having to speak French all of the time became a challenge (though it didn't take long until it was second nature) and many of the girls there were snooty, high class and just generally not nice. After a while, she finally settled in, making friends and doing well in her classes. Due to some stupid school rule, Oakley was not allowed any communication with her family, especially her brother. As much as she wanted to, it probably wasn't healthy for her. But that one year strain pretty much broke the relationship; she hasn't spoken to her brother since. 

When she heard news of her mother's death, Oakley came home to her father without a second thought. Her mother had died in a terrorist bombing in Madrid and when it came to the funeral, Oakley was mourning for two reasons; her mother was gone and her brother was not here. She had to return to school though, so left before she could fully comfort her father. 

The next few years, she studied hard, earning top marks in most of her classes. Being away from her family for so long and hitting the peaks of teenagerhood with a disciplined mind, Oakley built some kind of independence for herself. Her anxiety was almost gone. She could do things by herself. She could live. Things were fantastic for her, built around a solid routine. She occasionally visited her father in the Winter holidays but never for too long; she would have stayed longer if her brother had come home too. 

When the Atlanteans made their presence known, Oakley was studying in the library for her exams. At first, a pain seared through her right arm then through her entire body. At first, she thought it was just a pain from her recent lack of sleep but as her mind rushed through the reasons, ranging from growing pains to cancer, she noticed a small metal plate growing from the top of her hand. Hallucinations from stress? Had a leaf fallen on her hand? When she touched the plate and realised it was very much real, she freaked. She panicked. She went nuts. And as she stressed about it, the armor grew. It grew up her arm and hurt like hell. And as it grew, the "infected" part of her arm expanded, until it was nearly three times the size of what it usually was. After a few yelps and gasps in pain and a few funny looks from fellow students, she whisked herself away to her room, just as the armor grew to her shoulder and started to rip across her torso. 

For the next few hours, Oakley was in intense pain but she managed to control her breathing and the armor began to recede. When it returned to her elbow, she went to her ways of hiding it; a long coat was the best she had. As soon as she left her room though, paranoia set in. Who would find out? What would they think? Would she get expelled? There was only one thing she could do; go home. 

A material cast on her arm managed to keep her confidence up as she took the plane to her father's new home in England; the most it ever got up to was just above her elbow. He was pretty worried about her, though she didn't tell him anything, leaving him with the only explanation, "I broke my arm in three places in physical education." Though, after a few nights, her father found out about her 'ability'. He found her one morning, on the ground, the armor taking up her entire right arm and half of her body after she had awoken from a nightmare. He didn't insist on a doctor, instead using the internet to find out what was wrong with his daughter. It didn't take long for him to stumble upon the news of the Atlaneans

What Oakley misses more than ever now is her brother. 
Oakley has the ability to "grow" a somewhat impenetrable armor on her body, usually on her right arm (though it does crop up on other parts of her body as well). The size, rate of growth and the form it takes all depends on her own emotional turmoil; some days she wakes up and her body is clear of it, other days she could be hopelessly sad and it has formed all the way up her shoulder and down her torso. If her emotions are cluttered, the armor grows in a distorted like fashion and some grows on random parts of her body. If it is focused and directed on one thing, the armor grows solidly up her arm. As the armor grows, up her arm, it grows in size as well. Once it reaches her shoulder, her entire arm has tripled, quadrupled even, in size. The growth can be a painful process depending on how fast it moves. Slowly, it's like an itch. When it's fast, it's as if her bones are expanding and her muscles are trying to push their way out of her skin (think growing pains and intense cramps, but 1000x worse). She can subdue her armor by calming herself (which isn't particularly easy for her) but it usually disappears completely while she sleeps, though has woken to find it grown over most of her body after a nightmare. Because she is always thinking, most of the time it covers between small plates on her fingers to halfway up her forearm.

With the armor comes super strength and defence; Oakley can lift a car with ease if her entire right arm is covered. The armor seems to be unbreakable and can withstand bullets and knives, though where the armor does not grow is not immune to any kind of attack. The armor is not heavy for her, since she has the extra strength with it, but it would be heavy for anybody else trying to lift it. There are not many side effects to the armor, only the intense pain it brings when it grows and when the armor begins to cover over half of her body, she begins to forget herself and suffers from temporary amnesia. Her eyes will grow hazy, as if she's being hypnotised or is sleepwalking, and tends to act rashly and attack without reason.

Swolligator September 25th, 2011 1:54 AM

1 Attachment(s)
Main Information:
Name: Michael Cale
Age: 20
Height: 5’11’’
Weight: 72kg
Location: Lancaster, Lancashire, England, Great Britain

Nationality: British-Canadian
Physical: The thing most people acknowledge when they see Michael is his blonde streaked hair. Naturally a dark blonde bordering on brown, his hair is most often considered “dirty” blonde however the blonde streaks in his hair make it look somewhat lighter. Of course, the streaks aren’t natural, so to maintain the colour, he gets his hair streaked about two to three times a year. Soft to the touch naturally, his hair falls slightly over his ears and just obscures his eyebrows while it lightly touches the collar of any collared shirts he wears. Behind a pair of thin framed glasses are the biggest anomaly of Michael; his eyes. Due to a lack of pigmentation in his irises, Michael’s eye colour changes constantly; more often than not when he is using one of his “Multi-Visions” which can stand out quite a bit. A fairly square and thick jawline that is almost constantly covered in stubble means that Michael often appears older than he is.

An above average build of muscularity shows Michael’s preference for training at the gym, something he does often, and eating healthily. However, unlike body builders, Michael does not have 'over the top muscles', but is rather quite defined in his muscularity. Being somewhat physically active means that Michael is slightly tanned, or though with the weather in Lancaster, tanning is something hard to do. In contrast to his muscular build, he has somewhat 'thin' fingers, better used for dealing with electronics or getting into nooks and crannies, but also good for typing on keyboards; something he does a lot of.

Michael's wardrobe is not one full of many colourful clothes. Partially due to his slight inability to see the full spectrum of colours, but also due to the fact that black, white and grey are the easiest colours to blend together, his wardrobe consists of many clothes in these shades. As far as shirts go, Michael wears a plain dark grey long-sleeved shirt beneath a buttoned black shirt. Many of his clothes contain no brands, slogans or pictures, since Michael prefers the plain colours which allow him to blend in more. Over top of his grey shirt is an unbuttoned black shirt that has long sleeves as well and a thin hood which he let's sit over top of the black leather jacket he wears often. When it gets cold, Michael will button up his shirt then zip up his leather jacket, but never does he pull up the hood of his shirt - a little quirk he has.

Due to the paleness of his legs when contrasted to the rest of his body and the weather in Lancaster, Michael prefers to wear pants. On quite formal occasions, he will wear a pair of straight cut jeans, and in casual occasions, his jeans are boot cut. His preference for these two sizes being that he can move his legs more, in case the time for defence was needed, or so he could run away. On a more personal side, he dislikes the comfort and feel of 'tighter' cut jeans. Apart from jeans, he does possess several pairs of black pants as well as black work pants alongside a couple of pairs of cargo pants, however these pare mostly in varying shades of grey. He also has a pair of black parachute pants, something he does not wear often, yet still likes to wear.

As far as shoes go, he wears a pair of black leather work shoes, which he finds annoying and uncomfortable, however they are part of the uniform for his work. When not working, he wears either a dark brown pair or black pair of cross trekkers, all dependant on what he his wearing at the time. To suit the colour scheme, all his socks are either white, black or grey.

As far as accessories go, Michael wears a silver analogue watch on his right hand, despite being right handed. A pointed labret piercing points out from below his lip in the centre; his one and only piercing.

Michael’s Atlantean tattoo appeared at the top of his spine several days after feeling the burning sensation in the back of his eyes. Shown in an attachment below, it appears somewhat similar to his younger sisters; albeit reversed.

The irony between Michael and his ability though is the fact that several years ago, he was diagnosed with Partial Colourblindness, meaning that not all the colour cones in his eyes were full, so the entire spectrum of colours that other people can see is limited; his trouble being mostly in shades of colours where one clour becomes another. For this he wears a pair of thin glasses that help him to differenciate colours by making up for the lack.

Michael is the kind of person who has to see something to believe it. People could tell him something truthful and unless he saw for himself, he would not believe the person or people. This is good since it means that he does not fall for lies easily, but bad as most people see this as trust issues. However it is safe to say he does have trust issues and unless he trusts someone, he will quite often create a façade to hide himself, more of a defensive measure than anything. Alongside this, he chooses not to get close to people, for the people he had come close to before he had felt hurt by. To obtain Michael's trust is something not many people get easily; it can even take years for Michael to trust someone.

One of his better qualities is his protectiveness. Mainly over his little sister long ago, the protectiveness is still there, often for girls whom remind him of his younger sister and close friends of his; not that he has many. If he saw a young girl around his sister's age being harassed in public, he would quickly step in to protect her; something of an automatic response. His one weakness to this though would be his sister; if anything was to happen to her, even though he hasn't talked to her in ages, he would hunt down whoever was responsible for hurting her and deal with them. Despite the distance, even now he would quickly resume talking to her if he knew where she was.

Michael's instincts however have long since taught him to flee and leave the past behind. In a situation where things could seem too much, he will often run away than face them full on unless it came to his sister; self-preservation is what he has been doing for the past several years and it has kept him alive this far. His lack of close bonds makes it easier for him to run away if the need arises. His independent attitude of relying nearly solely on himself rather than on others means that he does not often require others to help him out; but would still accept help in any given form.

One thing he is good at and loves to do is write. Writing is Michael's form of keeping himself alive and in a stable state of mind. When he was younger and first moved to England, he began writing a story about him and his sister travelling the world and going on amazing adventures. Later once he lost contact with his sister it changed to a darker approach of himself fighting against the world in an alternate universe he created. Even to date he still keeps his old writing and continues to write and improve and eventually hopes to release a novel.

No matter how much he wished, Michael had been subjected to a fairly normal life; something he saw in both a positive and a negative way. He always wished that something would happen that would change the daily grind of his somewhat boring existence since he was a young child.

Born to a Canadian Mother and an English Father in Toronto, Michael had a fairly good start to his life; having no birthing problems and two loving, caring parents. Up until the age of four, Michael had been living in Toronto with his parents and later younger sister whom at the age of only a couple of months at Michael's fourth birthday. Michael took a shining to his younger sister, looking out for her as they grew older and helping his parents with taking care of her. He was perhaps the ultimate older brother, and he loved taking care of his younger sister. After the Toronto Riots, Michael's family moved from their home in Canada to a little town in northern Spain near the French border. Up until their move, Michael had only learnt French and English.

At that sort of age, the move did not bother Michael much, and so he adapted to living in Spain, attending school at the age of five. Around home he spoke English and French and at school he learnt to speak Spanish which he picked up quite clearly. Michael spent the next seven years in Spain with his family, becoming ever more so protective of his sister as he grew older; watching out for her at school and out in public. Quite often he had stepped in when she was being harassed by local boys who weren't so fond of foreigners. Not one for popularity, Michael made several friends while at school yet remained somewhat distant from many people. It wasn't really a problem, not until he began distrusting his friends; to them this was somewhat of a shock. Around the age of eleven, Michael had begun to develop and follow a different path, something inside him changed and he took some drastic changes.

His parents saw these changes, and began to worry about Michael. They did not know what was wrong with him and when they asked him about it, he denied anything. In order to resolve the issue, he was sent to a boarding school in England, one his father had been to when he was a kid, his parents hoping that it would help turn Michael in to a good person. However, the distance not from his family, but from his sister took a toll on him. For two years he refused to talk to his parents and would only talk to his younger sister, making sure that she was okay and unhurt. She missed him too and wanted him to return, but he made a promise to her that he would be waiting for her in England, and do his best.

When he was sixteen, life turned around for Michael. The first shock came to him when his parents rang up to tell him that his sister was attending a French Girls Academy in Southern France, a somewhat prestigious academy and although he was happy for his sister, he was disappointed that she did not follow him to England, after they had promised to be reunited in time. This fracture between his sister and himself accelerated his distrust of what people say. Because of the school's policy, he was not allowed to communicate with her for the first year, and so a rift opened up between them and Michael hasn't talked to his sister even at the age of twenty; they never resumed contact.

After that, one crisis followed the next. His father called him in the middle of the night to tell Michael he was returning to England and would be arriving the following evening. Despite inner protest and the natural curiosity, Michael met his father at the airport. Upon arrival, his father broke down in tears in the middle of Heathrow Airport, and after moving his father, learned that his mother had been killed in a terrorist attack in Madrid while on vacation. Michael shed no tears for his dead and estranged mother. His father had had a funeral before he left for England, so any hopes of meeting his long lost sister at a funeral were dashed away.

Once he had his father back up on his feet, Michael left his father alone at Heathrow Airport, much like Michael had arrived. He since turned his back on his family and refused to keep contact with them; locking his emotions away in a box. He changed his last name to 'Cale' and continued to finish his school years.

When the Atlanteans revealed their existence, Michael was at the age of nineteen. He woke in the middle of the night to feel his eyes burning. Suffering in silence, he held himself together through the pain as his eyes changed dramatically with the dawning of his new abilities. Once over, he went to see an eye doctor and found that overnight he had become 'Partially Colour-blind', meaning that he could still see colours, yet he found it hard to differentiate between shades (like Dark Blue and Dark Purple, etc.) and was prescribed with a pair of glasses to help make up for the change. He soon learnt that the burning in his eyes had changed his own sight for the good, and now found himself able to switch between different visions as well as a wide array of positive and negative side effects.

Michael’s ability is very strange and intriguing; even he does not know the extent of his ability and after having several years of possessing it, is still finding out new things about it. Michael has something he dubs, “Multi-Vision”, although this isn’t quite true. Through this ability, Michael is able to switch between different types of vision. Apart from the common vision he shares with many other people, he can see heat signatures in Infra-Red Vision; see in the dark with Night Vision, as well as Ultra-Violet Vision. On occasions he has been able to access a sort of X-Ray Vision, allowing sight through solid objects such as clothing and walls, yet the thicker and denser a wall, the more obscure his vision becomes.

As a positive side effect from having his ability, Michael is able to constantly see the emotional aura’s of people around him while he is in his “Normal Vision” mode. Unable to fully interpret a person’s emotions through their aura’s, he can identify some main emotions as well as identify other’s whom have abilities like him. The other side effect he has found is a somewhat eidetic memory; able to remember nearly all that he perceives and an increased ability of “speed reading”.

Negative side effects from using some of the more strenuous abilities are the strain that is done to his eyes. Sometimes his eyes will bleed, other times his vision might blur and not return to normal for a period ranging from a couple of minutes to days. Eventually, if Michael was to use his powers long enough and often enough, he could eventually lose his sight altogether; something Michael has come to realise as a high possibility.

But Michael has the potential to do so much more; he just needs to learn how to access the greater reaches of his ability. Making things implode and explode by concentrating on them is not far out of his reach. Being able to see from another person’s point of view could also be quite possible, but something that would need to be worked on, not anything he could pick up quickly.

However if Michael was to become fully dependant on his own abilities, he could easily be deceived. Relying on what he perceives and not on what he truly sees could be his ultimate downfall. To see something that is not there or to be tricked into perceiving something is not what it is, is all too easy for Michael to fall into the trap.

Legend September 25th, 2011 11:07 AM

Name: Christian Calaway
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Height: 6"4/ 193cm
Weight: 199lbs/ 90kg
Location: Egham, Surrey, London, England


-> Reference picture

-> Nationality: Caucasian

-> Atlantean Tattoo: Located on his upper right bicep is a runic symbol similar to this:

->Physical: Christian is a rather large man, standing tall with a fair amount of balanced muscle growth maintaining an athletic build. His skin is fairly pale, with only his face only a shade darker when compared to the rest of his body. His full thick black hair is fairly short, with only a few strands brushing across his small cold blue eyes. The hair is beginning to gray, however, with several noticeable streaks running through; an unfortunate trait he picked up from his father. This makes Christian appear a number of years older than he actually is. Christian has a long and thin face to the point of nearly appearing gaunt. Christian has a few battle scars, ruining his near perfect face (sarcasm XP). His nose has a prominent bridge, likely a result of his fair share of broken noses and his chin a small scar running across it. Christian keeps some facial hair, though it is alive only in the form of dark stubble. He has noticeably long arms and legs, with an almost stocky torso in comparison. Christians stands tall with excellent posture, though his posture does not carry over when he sits down, preferring to slouch.

-> Clothing: Christian dresses like a biker in the simplest of terms. He is most recognizable by his motorcycle racing jacket. Its base is black with red and white accents on the sleeves, shoulders and torso with a white logo on his left chest. Under the jacket, Christian sports a plain black shirt with no notable designs. However this is rarely seen as he loves his jacket more than he should. Christian favors a faded pair of blue jeans, held up by a leather belt with a silver buckle. To protect his hands, he wears a pair of fingerless black leather gloves. Unlike his blue jeans, the gloves are actually in good condition. Christian's favorite pair of black leather boots are the finishing touch to his look. The boots are relatively pristine despite the fact they are quite worn and fairly dirty, having seen plenty of action in the past year.

Accessories are not a foreign concept with Christian investing in several. Chains are a reoccurring theme, with a silver chain bracelet on his left hand, another steel chain hanging from his jeans (a result of his wallet), and his personal chain, a silver chain necklace with a celtic cross pendant around his neck. He is rarely seen without his trusty black motorcycle helmet with a "Legend of Zelda" theme on it and his worn old no name brand backpack with a "Sonic the Hedgehog" design eroding away. Christian formally sported several piercings, but has recently rid himself of them, leaving only yet to close up holes on his nose and ears.

Christian is a man of honor and ideals. He follows his only personal code of justice and is fairly morally conscious, pursuing what he believes is true justice at the time. He punishes those who promote chaos or injustice, and supports those he believes are not. He believes in fairness, but understands that true justice is relative and not an absolute concept. That being said, Christian pursues justice regardless, hoping to make the world a better place one step at a time. Christian's greatest desire is to make a change in the world. At times, Christian has been known to take his personal quest too seriously and be overzealous in his pursuit. He is not above taking morally questionable actions. He is not one to stand down from a fight. Instead he stands ready to fight whenever the situation calls for it whether it be defending an innocent, defending his dream, upholding his code of justice or when he is simply provoked into one. One to be caught in the heat of battle, Christian can overdo it at times often using his power by mistake.

Christian is a stern individual, taking life very seriously. He is rigid, structured, methodical, and cautious in all aspects of life. This leads to Christian being strict and overbearing, hating those who are ignorant to the effects of their actions. Stupidity is almost a crime to Christian. He takes life one step at a time and rarely acts on instinct, relying on his intelligence to make the best decision possible. To this end, Christian is an opportunist and is able to capitalize on many opportunities life gives him. Christian remains calm and collected, being logical whenever possible and not letting his emotions govern his actions. Not one for humor and preferring to keep serious, Christian is not a fan of jokes especially those of poor taste. However, he is known for being sarcastic and mutters the occasional wisecrack.

When interacting with others, Christian remains reserved. He enjoys social interaction and speaks with a polite tone, but does not go out of his way to meet people. Rather, he prefers that people approach him. Christian is a reliable person and he is quick to gain others trust (though he is slow to do the same). Christian despises lying and those who lie, rarely associating with those who fail to keep their word. If he is friends with someone, he assumes the role of the honorable friend and does his best to help them in any way he can. He is loyal almost to a fault, seeing treason as a crime. In a large group, Christian favors being in second in command, acknowledging the fact he is poor at motivating others and would make a terrible leader.

Christian is still human and has his faults. As mentioned before, he can be overzealous in his personal quest for justice and is overbearing at times because of his need for order. Christian is judgmental as well, rarely giving those second chances, especially for those who betray him. Christian also does poorly in relaxing, constantly needing to do something. He is known to be stubborn, refusing to admit defeat even in the most foolish of disputes. Christian can also be disrespectful to others if he feels they do not deserve it.

Christian was born in London, England but his family moved overseas to New York City when he was only 3 years old for the sake of his father opening another branch for his company. For the most part, he spent his days in the Upper East Side, as his father was an influential business man who commanded great wealth. This wealth dominated his parent's decisions from everything to their expenses to the groups they spent time with, as their aspirations were to become elite socialites. While Christian lived in comfort, he also lived in relative obscurity. He had a poor social life, as he received home schooling from his overbearing and overprotective mother. He had limited time outside of his "classroom" unable to experience the outside world. TV time was limited to an hour a day and the internet was inaccessible till he was 12. Sheltered, Christian's only interactions outside of his family and books were "rich" people gatherings where he mingled with children that primed for business school like he was. An independent thinker who dreamed of bigger things, Christian grew tiresome of these gatherings and as he grew older and he became more outspoken and rebellious. Christian yearned for a more free life and the ability to go out and explore. Eventually his parents caved in to his complaints (mostly his father who was less protective) and he was allowed to attend a public high school program at 14.

It was there that Christian became more exposed to the world. The sheltered life could not prepare him for a world of chaos. Crimes happening regularly and a world that could not help itself bothered him. It motivated Christian to developing his own philosophy and outlined his goals: Christian wanted to help the world the best he could. He took his studies seriously, using the work ethnic that his mother implanted in him to earn high marks in school with his dream landing a job in the government.

Christian had a slow start when it came to actually adapting to the world outside of his luxury apartment and his first year of high school reflected that. He was not an immediate social butterfly by any stretch of the imagination, being shy for a number of weeks. Everyday he would come home somber with his mother seeking any excuse to pull him out of school and place him back in his "elite homeschooling program." His father was more patient, ready to give Christian a chance to come out of his shell. The process was slow, awkward, and challenging. Christian had many failed attempts in making that first friend alienating many of his peers. Whether it was Christian's own awkward approach to social interaction or the ridiculously fancy outfits his mother dressed him in is a matter of debate. But a breakthrough happened shortly before his 15th birthday when an older student approached him during lunch. His name was Nicolas. Considered by many to be a punk, a troublemaker, and an outcast, Nicolas treated Christian with a fair amount of kindness and the two eventually became quite close friends.

Of course, Christian's mother despised Nicolas and his father was slow to warm up to the idea but nevertheless Nicolas proved to be a steadfast friend and one that Christian could rely on to help him out in a pinch nullifying Christian's bully problem in a few short weeks. In the following summer, Nicolas got Christian his first job at a motorcycle shop, selling and repairing motorcycles while also teaching him the basics of "commoner fashion" and the art of picking up girls. It was an enlightening few months to say the least.

Christian's sophomore (or 2nd) year in high school proved to be quite different. His new look, approach and feel for life equated to more success in all walks of life. More friends, better grades, more money. You get the idea. He played his first real video game, got his first pet, went to his first movie and so on. He even had his first girlfriend, albeit short lived, equated to two months of struggle and three months of recovery from heartbreak. His job went well, earning several raises and witness Nicolas get promoted to manager following his successful graduation from high school (with Christian being his tutor to pass finals).

The remaining years went by swimmingly and his new interests began to take form. Christian found a great love for motorcycles and with his saved up money purchased his first bike and began to customize it. He graduated school without much of a problem and began to attend New York University for a Law degree while maintaining his position at the bike shop, working repairs instead of sales. He moved out of his parent's apartment as well, moving with Nicolas when he turned 19.

He was 22 when he remembers waking up in the late evening, flying over his bed, his body nearly transparent. Shocked, frightened, and confused Christian locked himself in his room for several days until he could reason with himself. His first thought was that he took a few too many substances the day before. His second thought was that he was actually dreaming. His final thought was that he was some scientific freak which would explain why his mother never wanted him to leave home. The emergence of some strange tattoo in the coming days made the third option feasible, but not likely. Instead of wondering the "whys" and "hows", he focused on obtaining some sense of control. Approximately a week later, Christian was capable remaining solid for extended periods of time though it often ended with him a massive headache and him floating around in his room with smoke filling every corner.

He became familiar with the lower and simple functions of his power and began to become accustomed with the upper limits of his "gift". Upon signing up and being accepted to an exchange program, Christian has just arrived in London and is ready to begin his next term at Royal Holloway, University of London with his trusty motorcycle as his only friend (OOC: I googled it. Seems like a cool school. Wouldn't know. Not British lol).


Smoke Manipulation: Christian has the ability to control, generate, manipulate and transform into smoke at will. With this power, Christian can become intangible (by transforming his entire body into smoke) and fly (by changing his lower body into smoke and using density properties to maintain a controlled state of flight). When intangible, Christian is immune to most attacks (as well as being able to flutter around as a cloud). The main offensive of this ability of his power comes from his ability to manipulate the density of the smoke produced, being able to grasp his opponent with surrounding smoke (his tight grip can be broken by powerful forces) or he can simply use the smoke as a blunt weapon. He can also shape the smoke into different shapes, such as giant fists, and use them to attack. As his body is a living embodiment of smoke, Christian's principle weaknesses come those provided by smoke. Strong gusts of wind and confined spaces limit Christian's capabilities greatly as they make his powers either difficult to control (wind blows smoke around) or limit the area to operate in. Also Christian's powers require extreme concentration, frequent mental calculations and emotional control. As such stirring Christian's mental and emotional state will cause to make mistakes that develop opportunities for others to take advantage of. Christian's control over his body state is also fickle and finds the control slip from time to time, becoming smoke at inopportune times.

The upper limits of his power are unknown, but he suspects the upper functions would focus on a greater range of manipulation (higher level of destiny to increase damage), control (wider range of shapes and "weapons"), and generation (being able to create more smoke at one time as his current limit is filling up a large room)

Misc: Christian spends most of his time at bars drinking (rum and cola cocktail please) and smoking (he favors cigars) in a social environment. He also dreams of experiencing true love like they do in the movies. Christian owns and rides a motorcycle everywhere, performing his own repairs. For a reference of the motorcycle, here is a picture:

Writing Sample:
Rain. Its ability to nurture life unrivaled. Its ability to bring the rise and fall of civilization unmatched. Its ability to bring negative emotion to Lyle unquestionable.

Lyle had left his comfortable home in Castelia City. Him leaving was inevitable at the time. His adoptive parents did not force him out in any sort of way. In fact, they wanted him to say ever since his Uncle Ray broke the "news." Ha, the news. It's not every day that you learn your mother had a fetish for Pokemon and decided to have sex with one. Thats how Lyle chose to look at it at least. Twisting the facts into some twisted humorous story was Lyle's way of coping with the fact he was freak. Lyle continually explained he needed to leave Castelia for his own reasons. Lyle put in a vague way: "To find something." What that something was? Hell, he didn't know. He was hoping it would be a clue. A calling perhaps for what he was destined to do. His brother, Neil, went on a quest of self-discovery a year or two ago and discovered he wanted to become a historian after visiting Johto. Lyle had hoped it would work for him as well. Packing a bag full of clothes and stuff, Lyle took out his bicycle from the closet and walked out the door proclaiming he will return but as "a man." He was never skilled with words.

That was a week ago. Now Lyle finds himself on a dark, dim, empty road leading to some city he was never been to combating the elements and losing. Walls of rain blocked his vision and the wind was pelting him in the face with sticks, stones and anything else that can break bones. The street was barely lit and most would refuse to travel it in this inclement weather, but Lyle had little choice. Standing around was not his style, but it was slowly becoming the more attractive option. "Bah, this crappy weather sucks," Lyle complained. He had given up. I probably should of a few hours ago when it started, he thought to himself. He had hoped in his gut it was a temporary shower. He then remembered hope gets one nowhere.

Taking cover under a few trees on the side of the road, Lyle crouched down, reaching into his pockets for his pack of cigarettes and his lucky sliver lighter with a distinct medieval design. Getting lucky on his fifth try, Lyle managed to light his cigarette. Taking in some smoke, he exhaled slowly letting the stress leave his body. Smoking was probably the only thing that could make him forget about the weather. With a sigh, Lyle let his mind wander taking in the sights and sound of the weather. "From this angle, the rain ain't too bad. I still hate the rain," Lyle mumbled to himself.

Glancing over to his bag, Lyle remembered the conversation with his Uncle Ray. Shuffling through his belongings, Lyle took out the Pokeball that supposedly contained the spirit of some Pokemon or something as he remembered. Inhaling a deep breath of smoke, Lyle stared at the Pokeball playing around in his imagination. "My father must be a fire type. Would explain why I hate the rain," Lyle concluded sarcastically. On several occasions, he had considered opening the ball refusing to believe his Uncle's story. It was a hard pill swallow. After all, he had to believe his mother loved Pokemon more than the next person. Or worse, believe that Pokemon spirits are capable of possessing people and then forcing the reproductive process to happen. Then again, it does explain a number of the strange events in Lyle's life including the day he roasted an entire gang. He hoped going out and wandering the world would lead him to an explanation for all this. Pessimism would say it was pointless to expect that answer to magically appear. For once, Lyle was trying to be optimistic.

The rain didn't die down at all in the span it took Lyle to finish his cigarette. Flicking the cigarette aside and packing up his bag, Lyle mounted his bicycle. A sign a while back said the city wasn't too far. I'll be there in no time, Lyle reasoned. Braving through the weather blind, Lyle trudged forward at a fair speed. Squinting as he pedaled, Lyle could see the lights of the city. "Almost there," Lyle called to no one in particular. However, a dark shadow appeared seemingly out of nowhere. The rain prevented his vision from deciphering the shadow's shape. It looked like a person and he did not want to be responsible for murder. Unable to slow down, Lyle veered to the right, crashing into the railing, rolling several yards landing with his face deep in mud and water.

"Arrgh," Lyle groaned in pain. "What the hell…was that?" Lyle rolled on the ground for a while hoping the pain would wash away. Picking himself off the wet ground, Lyle made sure his bag was in good shape and put it back on his back. His bike, while not ruined, was damaged. The chain looked usable, but dangerous to ride. He would have to hope there was a bike shop in town. With a sigh, Lyle then turned to his attention up the road a few yards. The shadow was still there standing in the dark rain. It appeared ominous and dangerous. Nevertheless, Lyle was a little more than angry.

"Hey you! Moron! What the hell were you doing in the middle of the road? I should have you to pay for a new bike you motherf-" As Lyle made his way to the figure, he began to notice something. Unless rain has the ability to distort vision, Lyle was going nuts. The figure wasn't a person. It was a Pokemon. At least it looked like one. Not like the ones his sister's friends had as a pets. One of those not so accepted ones.

"Kadabra!" It said.

"Yeah, I don't speak Pokemon. Now take the costume off, kid. Cough up some money while you are at it. I need to fix my bike," Lyle retorted with some anger. The Pokemon stared at him in response and titled its head in confusion. Lyle was not amused. "Alright fine. You wanna play Pokemon eh? Fine I'll play," Lyle chuckled. "Fire Punch!" Lyle winded up a punch and lunged forward. It wasn't a flaming fist but Lyle dreamt it was. Seconds before contact, the Pokemon disappeared. Lyle almost fell over his own feet. Spinning around looking for the Pokemon, Lyle began to panic. There was no obvious place to hide and how would it dodge his attack with less than second anyway. Turning around with a sigh, Lyle was then caught by surprise.

"Kadabra!" The Pokemon roared. With that, Lyle blacked out.


Light filtered through into Lyle's eyes. Slowly his vision was consumed by sunlight blasting through a few clouds. It was far warmer that it was before. Whatever happened earlier must of knocked him out. The Kadabra must of used some attack or something, Lyle said to himself in his head. Attempting to lift himself from the ground, Lyle took in the beautiful sky. it was a sun-filled sight. Lyle always preferred the bright sun over the dreary clouds. "Guess, the weather cleared up when I was out…wait a minute…" Lyle, now more awake, felt around. No longer was he surrounded by pavement, but instead found himself in thick green grass. His bike was gone too, but his bag was on the ground only a few inches away from his body. Lucky for him, as his bag was far more important. He could afford to lose the bike. Walking suited him fine. Dusting himself off and realizing his face was covered in dry mud, Lyle looked around at his new location. Nothing seemed familiar. It was a beautiful grassland with a few trees scattered across. Ideal weather too. Comfortable enough for him to keep his jacket on at least.

"Where am I?" Lyle wondered, pausing to take a deep breath. "Well, I won't find out standing around here. If I keep walking, I'll eventually find a road. Or maybe a town." With a new mindset of finding out where he ended up, Lyle lit up a cigarette and stared walking with no destination in mind hands in his pockets and his head held up high.

Swolligator September 25th, 2011 11:23 AM

All I can say Raikiri, is Accepted!
Now we just have to wait for Skymins verdict.

MichaelaTheUchiha September 25th, 2011 5:08 PM

I'm sorry, but I couldn't help at laugh at the "slave" thing. I just had to comment on it, even though I'm not joining the RP. Or at least, I THINK I'm not joining the RP. xD

Silver Rogue September 25th, 2011 6:45 PM

Hmm, very interesting! Reserve me a spot please? I'll hopefully have my SU up soon, I think I already have a basis...

Saturday's Child September 25th, 2011 7:30 PM

Whoa...yes. YES! I'd like to reserve a spot, if you please? Kthxbye. :3

Skymin September 26th, 2011 5:50 AM

ichiro, you don't need my opinion too! accept anyone you like!!!

<: so i guess that means you're in, raikiri d:

Saturday's Child September 26th, 2011 4:09 PM

I want to just put the bare bones of my SU out here on the dance floor.

Main Information:
Name: Jamey Lambert
Age: 15
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 151 lbs.
Location: Girard Township, Pennsylvania, USA

Atlantean Tattoo: His tattoos run up his arms from his fingertips to his shoulders. In the center of his palms and on his shoulders are strange symbols that are dubiously reminiscent of snowflakes. He can occasionally feel another one of these etching itself right in the middle of his forehead.
Physical: (One Paragraph Minimum.)
Clothing: (One Paragraph Minimum.)

(Two Paragraphs Minimum.)

(Two Paragraphs Minimum.)

Jamey's ability is the power of cryokinesis, which is, for all (of my) intents and purposes, is control over ice and cold temperature. He is not very practiced in his ability, but already he can freeze water molecules in the air to create snow. But, until he gains proper training, he can accomplish nothing greater. Basically, what his ability has gifted him with is the power to slow down the molecules in an object to freeze it or make it cool down. He can also slow down his skin molecules to appear colder. With these abilities, he can do things such as create ice from the moisture in the air, cool the temperature, freeze water and cool down objects, emit mist from his body, and move the ice he has created if needed.


Writing Sample:

Elijah walked the abandoned, frosted streets of the west side of town. His new outfit his mother had gotten him (a sleek one, actually; a bronze-colored overcoat, a white button-up collar-tee, slacks that match the overcoat and black dress boots) fit him wonderfully, he loved it, and, surprise surprise, had pockets on the inside for his knives. That was his favorite part.

He crunched through the snow, looking around and reminiscing in the memories he had and, he knew, that probably would never be available to tell to any kids of his own. "Not that I'll be guaranteed to have kids," he said out loud, playing on his doubts. But he shook the thoughts aside, leaving only one left in his head: his boyfriend, Sam. His perfect face made him go weak at the knees; how his eyebrows always had a mischievous upturn. "Oh, Sam..." Elijah kept walking straight, knowing he'd eventually run into other people, and just thought about how much he missed Sam. He cried a little, and decided that if he lived through the war, he would tell his parents that he was gay and that he was dating his best friend. He set everything aside, though, when he heard the commotion of war planning through open windows.

Men and women alike were shouting, running around with weapons and orders as he walked inside. Elijah just walked through and stuck his hand inside his jacket, feeling his knives. They gave him a sense of security. He saw two official-looking men pass by, and as one of them was a totally new face, he knew at that moment that the other was Cain Trace, the new General of the Human Republic. He saluted as the men passed ("Sirs"), and then walked on. His boots clomped and squeaked under him as he walked into the war room, just in time to see a meeting without, apparently, General Trace and...Colonel Vikar Leroux, probably the man walking with Trace earlier. He didn't want to attend a half-over meeting, so he turned himself around, squeaking loudly, and led himself around to the shooting range. He just walked in, headed towards the target farthest from the entrance, slipped a knife from his jacket and threw it at the target.

Well, past the target.

He kept throwing. He was just a bit rusty. When he used all six, he went back and got them. Walked back up, threw them again, picking his talent back up quickly. After about twenty long cycles, he just walked out of the range quietly and out of the building altogether. There were a couple of people smoking a few yards from the door, but he walked along the wall away from them until he was out of earshot. He just stood there, playing with his knives, watching the sky change color and the clouds roll by, thinking about his life and what he did to be in this situation. What did he do to be here? He loved his family to be here.

"I loved to be here," Elijah said, driving the knife he was playing with into the snow. "And I might not like it here, but I'm gonna fight until there's no more fighting to be done."

Silver Rogue September 26th, 2011 6:19 PM

1 Attachment(s)
Main Information:
Name: Nikolai Afon
Age: 20
Height: 6ft. 2in.
Weight: 155 lbs.
Location: Moscow, Russia

Atlantean Tattoo: Nikolai’s tattoo is located on the inside of his forearm, close to where the upper arm meets the elbow. Check out the thumbnail at the bottom for a picture.

Nationality: Russian

Physical: Nikolai is a person you would most likely not remember if you saw him on the street. He has a slightly muscular build, and is a bit tall, but not abnormally so in either category. He has short jet black hair that he spikes daily. He usually wears reflective sunglasses, but behind the glasses are two piercing blue, almost grey eyes. He tries not to eat too much junk food, so he is rather healthy, although he does enjoy the American drink Mountain Dew. He has long fingers, which he often uses to type on a computer keyboard.

Clothing: Nikolai does not care too much about fashion, preferring to wear simple clothing styles instead. His usual outfit consists of dark blue denim jeans that bag a little along with a belt, and a plain t-shirt. He also is often found wearing a jacket with a hood as well, but almost never with the hood up unless he is trying to avoid attention. The clothes he wears often don’t have logos, or if they do the logo is not very obvious. Nikolai hates wearing things where he feels like a walking billboard. He also dislikes wearing shorts, and therefore always wears jeans or sweatpants.

Personality: Nikolai prefers solitude over company, but does enjoy the righ tkind of company. And in his opinion, the right kind of company is the kind he is in charge of. Nikolai prefers leading to following, as most of the time,other people’s plans are not well thought through or have no real objective. Despite liking to lead, Nikolai is rather shy as he has been homeschooled his entire life. Because of his shyness, he never really gets to know those who he is put in charge of, in the few cases where he was. This has made others working with him feel uncomfortable around him, which is something Nikolai has noticed and not even tried to change.

Nikolai is also dedicated, and won’t put anything down until the job is done completely and done right. It irks him when people leave things unfinished, and he will often pick up a project that isn’t his just because another person didn’t bother to finish it. While this quality is sometimes good, it also annoys people when they find that their project was finished by another without them asking for any help.

He tries to be helpful when he can,although because of his social awkwardness, his help is often rejected. Others find him to sometimes be boastful of his abilities, and turn down his help just because of that. Recently though, he has become very reclusive and hates to talk about himself due to his recently found ability. Whenever people try to talk to him about himself, he quickly tries to change the subject.

Nikolai was born in Moscow, Russia, where his father was the manager of a weapons manufacturing plant. Nikolai never knew his mother, and his father never talked to him about it, neither did Nikolai ask. For the first eight years of his life, he lived in Russia where his father hired a homeschool teacher for him, rather than have him go to a public school. While Nikolai thrived in school and was very bright, his homeschooling led to his social awkwardness and shyness later in his life.

When Nikolai was eight, his father was transferred to a plant in California, and both father and son moved to America. Nikolai continued his homeschooling education in the sunny state of California, although it took him a year and a half to learn English well enough to hold a conversation with another person. He never took much interest in relationships with other people in America, and instead buried himself in personal studies. Still exceling in his homeschool program, he began to take extra courses, especially in technology in programing.

For eight years Nikolai studied in America, making few friends and mostly isolating himself. When he was sixteen,his father was killed in a driving accident, and Nikolai moved back to Russia. Back in Russia, he was cared for by another family for two years before he reached eighteen. On his eighteenth birthday, he left and went back to his old house, which he had inherited now from his father, along with a large amount of money and all his possessions, which included a large store of guns, his father being a weapons manufacturer. For the next year, he took time to practice with firearms, becoming familiar with many weapons. Now he always carries a concealed M9 Baretta in his jacket.

When he was nineteen, the Atlanteans revealed themselves to the world, and he expierenced a burning sensation on hisupper forearm, where a strangely patterned tattoo appeared a few days later. Soon after, he developed an ability that he could not understand at first, but has since come to understand it and work on controlling it.

Nikolai has the ability to control and manipulate electronics. He first discovered this ability when he went to the bank to take out a deposit from the ATM. He simply touched the machine, and 250,000 rubles (about 8,000 US dollars) came flying out of the machine. Not understanding, he went to the bank teller and told him that the machine was broken. After several instances such as this,Nikolai decided that this could not be a coincidence.

He slowly developed his abilities, and eventually learned new skills that he could use. The first thing that helearned to do was manipulate a machine’s inner workings, and make it do things without him actually having to type on a keyboard. He was currently working asa programmer, and as he became faster and faster at this skill, he produced programs faster as well. Eventually, he quit his job as a programmer and relied upon his father’s inheritance money while he further explored his new ability.

The next skill he learned was accessing the World Wide Web. Just by closing his eyes and placing his hand on any device that accessed the internet, he could literally see the streams of data flowing throughout the globe. The first time he used this ability, he passed out from the huge amount of information being processed in his mind. Eventually, he learned to slow the amount of data that his mind could process at once, picking and choosing what he wanted to research at astonishing rates, even if he was slowing down the speed at which he processed information.

The latest skill he learned was the ability to access cell phone networks, and through them, satellites in orbit.He is still extremely reluctant to use this ability, as the first time he usedit he accidently caused a satellite to destabilize in orbit and made it crash only fifty miles away from Sidney, Australia.

Writing Sample:

(Taken from the Pokemon Odyssey 2: The Dark Tournament)

He had stalked his prey for a few hours now, the time all blending together making it seem both like ages and like a blink of the eye. Silver had found the scent back at the river that ran through the cavern, and it had led to here. He had always been a good tracker, and that was coming in handy right now as he swept his eyes from one side of the small cave to theother. The scent had branched off from the main fighting cavern and gone off into a side cave that turned and twisted for what must have been miles, but here the scent was freshest, and could not have been more that a few minute sold.

Silver scanned the cave from his hiding spot for the third time, trying to spot any evidence of his target. If he had been back in the Alpha Alliance, he would have rushed in without hesitation, as few could stand up to a member of Gold Tribe. But here, every fighter in the tournament was chosen because of their strength, and usually more than just that. So, was he just getting closer to his enemy, or was the enemy lying in wait for him, waiting to ambush him.

Silver thought for a moment about his options, and what he had learned so far about the enemy. The scent he had picked up was definitely bug, and it had been relatively fast. The absol had to run at some points to keep up with it instead of sticking to the shadows like he normally did. He had also smelled and seen droplets of venom at some points, so it was probobly a poison type as well. He searched his memory, trying to recall any of the contestants in the arena thatwould match the description. The only one that he could remember had been a Scolipede...

He smiled, Scolipedes took extra damage from psycic moves, and just happed to have psyco cut. Well then, he thought lets go trip the trap. He cautiosly creeped into the room, keeping his ears and eyes open for any movements or sounds. He moved to the center of the room, waiting, then spun around quickly to see the monstrous form of a pokemon behind him. He grinned inwardly as he saw that he was correct, that it was an ambush and that he was facing a Scolipede. After hardly a millesecond of satisfaction, he lept out ofthe way of the charging bug pokemon, which kept going and crashed into a rock. He quickly sent out two psyco cuts and a dark pulse at the beast while it was stunned, but it did not seem to do a lot of damage to it. Not that Silver was surprised, all the players in the tournament could probobly take lots ofpain, and a few attacks was not going to stop this beast. The Scolipedecontinued to charge him time and time again, while Silver harrased it with both his moves and claws.

After a few minutes of this, the Scolipede changed strategies, and used themove steamroller, rolling up the wall onto the cieling, then back down the other wall and into Silver before he had time to get out of the way, throwing the Absol against the opposite wall, temporarily stunned. The Scolipede took advantage of the opening and charged once again, this time mercilously stabbing Silver with it's horns, poisoning him. Silver quickly used a combination of psyco cut and dark pulse to blast the other pokemon away, and got up shakily, the poison already taking effect in his system. Realising that he did not have much time before the poison would really kick in, he changed tactics, launching dark pulse after dark pulse through the room. causing it to shudder and shake.As he saw cracks forming on the walls and cieling, he dashed out of the room, just as the cieling collapsed behind him, cushing the wailing Scolipede behindhim.

He ran on shaky legs for a mile or two before resting and taking stock of his injuries. He had various scrapes and bruises, but the only major wound was where the Scolipede had stapped him with it's horns on his left sholder. He could feel it stinging from the poison and a small amount of pus was oozing out of it.

He slowly made his way back to the main cavern, and just as he did, there was a large explosion on the other side of the large cave. He squinted, trying to see what had happened, but was unable to because of the distance and dim light. He crept around the edge of the cavern, staying in the safety of the shadows, trying to find out what happened, when he saw a pokemon walking straight forhim. He tensed up, readying himself if battle was necessary, then relaxed again as he realized it was one of the keepers.

The hooded Kabutops called to him "The battle is over, you may come back to the portal now."

Silver hesitated for a moment, then walked out of the shadows towards the ancient pokemon. He started walking back to the portal, then stopped and asked "What happened over there with that big explosion?"

The Kabutops smiled and said "A graveler who was about to die used selfdestruct and tried to take his opponent with him. Unfortunately he failed, and the other pokemon managed to survive. Although, there was quited a bit of damage to the arena. "Then the ancient pokemon smiled and walked away, probobly to go gather the rest of the contestants.

Silver shuddered. Unfortunately? Wow, some real nice people here. He shook his mind and quickly limped to the river, where he dipped his shoulder in an attempt to clean out the poison before heading back to the portal. He stood at the glowing doorway for a moment, looking back into the cavern, before stepping into the glowing light.

He stepped out on the other side and shook his head. Those portals gave him a strange feeling in the head, kind of like when at parties when you suck all the helium out of a balloon.

He looked around, searching for the other Gold Tribe members, finding most of them standing together, as well as a small Buizel. He walked over to them, weaving through the smaller than earlier crowd of pokemon. He cleared his throat and said "Well, looks like most of us made it through the round. Any news from the others yet?"

Hello! Not sure, but I may edit this a little bit later...maybe. Lol, but I like the Russians!! I really like my character though. :P

EDIT: As usual, my computer is being stupid and forgetting to add spaces when I copy and paste. I'll fix those I see. Ugh.

Swolligator September 27th, 2011 10:34 PM

@Silver Rogue, it3s fine, welcome on board. Accepted!

Silver Rogue September 28th, 2011 6:26 PM

Ok, just wondering, at how many people/when are we going to start? not meaning to bug you or anything, I was just kind of wondering I am really looking forward to this!

Skymin September 28th, 2011 6:47 PM

It'll start when we think there's a decent enough amount of people. d:

If you want others to join, you could always ask your friends. XD

Silver Rogue September 28th, 2011 8:05 PM

Awesome, sounds good! Unfortunately, most of the role-players I know might be a bit busy at the moment, but I could ask. :p

Skymin September 29th, 2011 7:57 AM

Finally finished my own character! I wrote all of the History on my phone over like 3 days, so I'm sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors in it. XD

CyBeastSaber September 29th, 2011 9:32 AM

Hrm.... should I reserve or not.... Hm.... I'll come back to state my verdict in a bit.

Skymin October 20th, 2011 4:09 PM

A note to all players; incase you did not notice, Ichiro posted on the IC! I'm in the process of writing my own post but what you have to post about is obvious; get to the Atlantean Centre. Though there are some all over the world, you have to be in or be going to the London one. <:

Swolligator October 20th, 2011 9:51 PM

Following Skymin's post, the Atlantean Centers are in all capital cities, you can make your way to the London branch if you want, but it is not necessary.

Silver Rogue October 21st, 2011 5:14 PM

Sorry for my absence, I got a concussion, and had trouble seeing straight and just plain thinking for a while. But I am back! I'll post as soon as I can. Thanks Skymin!

Swolligator October 21st, 2011 9:00 PM

Not a problem, Silver Rogue, we have only really just started.

Legend October 23rd, 2011 8:01 PM

I should be able to post tomorrow during my break from classes. I had a bunch of homework this weekend so I have not had much time to make a post. Did some brainstorming though, so it shouldn't be too hard.

Swolligator October 28th, 2011 4:57 AM

Also, Silver Rogue, your character is in Moscow, correct?

SV October 28th, 2011 2:59 PM

Name: Leon Nef (Born Leon Henchoz)
Age: 20
Height: 6' 1
Weight: 185 pounds, about 84 KG.
Location: Verona, Italy


Nationality: Dual Swiss, Italian.

Atlantean Tattoo: Leon's Atlantean Tattoo wasn't subtle at all. It appearance across his face, forming around his left eye and extending down to the side of his left face. The pattern continues again on his left shoulder a bit, basically the same. It is dark green, assuming the shape of stripes with pointy ends at the end. Here's a visual presentation. (note, that's not how he looks, only the tattoo is the same).

Physical: Because of his mixed race of Swiss, Italian, and partially German, Leon has an interesting appearance. He appears to have slightly darker skin from his Northern Italian roots, but eyes which as bright blue. He has black, short hair, which it seems is naturally always standing and going in every possible directions. However, on occasions, he gels it to spike up naturally and neatly.

Clothing: Leon usually liked to wear what he would call comfortable clothes. It is therefore hard to explain all of the different possible outfits he wears. But generally all of them have a few things in common. First of all, with any of the outfits would be a pair of jeans. They would generally be blue, but can also sometimes be black, or gray, or other shades similar, possibly like green. He is also found usually wearing a collared short sleeve shirt, However, sometimes, it might be long sleeved with sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He is almost always found wearing a necklace with a strange inscription on it, and sometimes a white undershirt under his collared shirt. In the current case, he is found wearing a black long sleeves collared shirt, a white undershirt underneath, and a pair of blue jeans. His shoes are normal, casual shoes, nothing remotely interesting or uninteresting about them.


Personality: Leon has been described by one word, as if all descriptions of him could come from that word, and as if once you hear the word, you'd be able to fully understand his entire personality, and that word is b*stard. Yes, as a young kid, Leon has began garnering a reputation of a b*stard. He loves to argue with people, and it would be one of the things he would be found doing most of the time. And he's actually pretty good at arguments, and often wins them, probably one of the many reasons he's called a b*stard. He loves to win as well, one of his many traits, but also, despises, and I do mean despises to lose. He is also a bit of a smartas$, really thinking a lot of himself. He has been note for his tendency to talk back quite a lot, which has gotten him in trouble more than a few times as a kid growing up with his parents, and then a few times with his run-ins with the law. He also loves to make fun of and tease people. Most of the time, it might be in good fun, other times, it might be tried to provoke people into action. He treats it like an argument, And when he provokes them into action, he wins that argument.

But through all his b*stardness (is that a word?), there is another person. This person acts much the same, but the words he uses have a different connotative meaning. This would be to people he trusts, or people he would consider friend. He would act very similarly, often teasing people and arguing with them, but he means it in a more friendly and pleasant way. Still, many people might not be able to tell this, and still call him b*stard. Rightly so.

Still, he is serious when he needs to be, and understands when and when not to act unfavorably.

Leon was born in Geneva, Swittzerland to Amelia Rossi and Claus Henchoz. His parents were both respected in the business world, and provided Leon with a caring yet sheltered life. He never had to do anything much for himself, as there were maids and butlers who did most of it for him. His parents were caring and loved Leon. But perhaps this was a trait with all sheltered individuals. Eventually, they wanted to be free. This began with Leon when he was younger, mostly in the forms of civil disobedience, simple acts of disobeying, or even acting out. He was called spoiled brat, and began to argue with his parents. It was at this young age he found himself having quite an act for arguing, doing it quite a bit. His parents didn't like it one bit, and neither did others who hung around him, like friends and such. Thus the names began, and every name he was called, he felt was a win in the argument, or a step forward for him. Obviously, he would often get in trouble, on countless occasions his parents punished him by grounding him or worse. Nothing seemed to work though, as he would countlessly have another go at it, over, and over, and over again. The punishment stank, and Leon knew it, but to stop doing such would mean he'd have to change who he was, and he had no intention of doing that.

Eventually, as a teenager, he had enough of this sheltered life. He was fed up with the pampering, and fed up with the service. He wanted to live by him, and so he left home, and set off. Changing his last name, he made his way out of the country, and began exploring. Traveling out of Switzerland, he made his way across Europe. It was then he began to realize much about the 'outside' world, so to speak. But he also had another realization. He didn't bring enough money to sustain him for very long. He soon found himself on the edge of an knife, living in almost desperation. He had more than once thought of going back now, but he decided against it. He made a promise never to return, and he intends to keep it. He had a few run-ins with the law for stealing on a few occasions, where he displayed his arguing and talk-back once again, often getting the disapproval and sometimes injuries from authorities. It didn't matter. In his book, he won. But he wondered if he could keep this up. He was able to sustain himself with his stealing, but he didn't think know how long this would last. Then, something miraculous happened. A strange tattoo appeared on his face, and his world changed. The Atlanteans announcing themselves to the world, and him gaining his abilities made this much more interesting, and particularly it made him more much effective in stealing. Needless to say, he never lost again. Not to the police, not to anyone. With these abilities, he would always win.

Leon has the power of electric manipulation. He is able to alter the movement of electrons, allowing them almost any electricity based power. The power of his electricity would often depend on the electric based power he uses. A light bulb would generate about the least amount of electric discharge, while a thunderstorm, for example, is where his power is most potent. Simple powers would include the ability to generate electricity, shoot lightning, or overload a circuit. He cannot control the electric technology, only gather energy from it from an attack. His abilities is also more potent in water, and can often be devastating.

It is also difficult for him to use electricity if there is no base of electricity around for him to use. Still, sources are often no hard to find, as many people nowadays have things as simple as a cell phone and ipod which Leon can use as an electric energy source. There are also repercussions for using high based electrical sources, like a thunderstorm for example. Leon's ability taps into his nervous system, particularly that in his arms, and flows outwards as an attack. The use of higher based electrical attacks can often discombobulate his nervous system and leave his hands burning and lifeless for short, or sometimes long periods of time.

Writing Sample:Taken from my latest post in Three Energies
Anthony Hazen. That was the name of one of the four Energy wielders that arrived in Lindos. Anthony was a brute, as was quoted many times by his opponents. He was rash, impatient, and always looking to get in on the action. Andrey, his twin brother and one of the other four Energy wielders, was his exact opposite. In almost every way, in fact. They were always going at each other because of that. Yet right now, Anthony was in a good mood. He had recently signed up with the Primal Kingdom along with his brother because of pressure by the government in order to drop certain charges placed on them for their problematic behavior, most notably stealing energy from the Energy reserves in blank. He had yet to be in any real action yet, until they were assigned to take out guards of the now-dead ambassador to the First Republic, hiding now behind an energy barrier around a warehouse. He was hoping on the peace negotiations breaking down, and action happening, and boy, were his prayers answered.

"Come on out." He heard the female next to him say. She was one of the other two guards sent with them, Ahadi Kane was her name. She used a book to conduct her energy attacks. It was strange to Anthony, and he didn't think much of it. But nonetheless, he thought that she might have been getting a dent into the barrier. Irritated and bored, Anthony decided to get involved as well. He took out his axe, which at this time was about the size of a hatchet, and fused in his Red Will Energy into it. The axe increased in size a bit, the Red Will Energy glowing around it. The size was now that of a normal axe, one handed still, but plenty of room for improvement as his anger would rise, which might soon happen if the barrier would keep staying up. Joining the girl, Anthony smashed at the energy barrier around the warehouse loudly screaming as he did. The impact of his axe seemed to momentarily fuse with the energy of the barrier, and then push off. The axe was doing damage. He struck at it more, sending hit after hit at the energy barrier. It was clearly getting weakened now. It wouldn't be long now until they broke in. Anthony screamed back at his brother, his twin.

"Come on, Andrey! Don't just stand there like an as*! Come help with this barrier!" He screamed at his brother. He might have sounded angry, but that was just how he normally spoke to his brother.

Swolligator October 28th, 2011 8:47 PM

welcome to Atlantis Arising, Supervegeta, you have been Accepted!

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