Agnes Johansson - Stockholm, Sweden
October in Sweden is not overly nice. The weather is windy or rainy most days, and sometimes both at the same time. But today, yellow rays of sunlight actually shone through the thick mattress of clouds that hat otherwise decided to camp indefinitely above the capital city. A stream of red swept through the air over a street all of a sudden, a fluttering trail of one meter textile behind a larger piece of brightly blue textile. That was at least what it looked like to most of the onlookers.
To Agnes, this was more thrilling than most things she had done in life. She wasn't completely sure that it was a smart thing to do, but she was simply too tired to think and act wisely any longer. She had been hiding for a week, her half-brother being the only other human being who had known about her real identity. And then the news came on TV, in papers and everywhere. An explosion in Berlin, caused by Atlanteans. Everyone now had to register at an Atlantean Relief Centre which was set up in the capitals all around the world. Register or face the consequences. Ah, consequences...
Another day, Agnes might have done something even more reckless. She might have opened up her window in the middle of the night and just flown out. Soared high above all the buildings and just left... Escaped. But this day she had met Carl upon exiting her room filled with thoughts like that, just after waking up. He had somehow sensed what she was thinking of doing. And he had talked her out of it.
She smiled, where she flew roughly three meters above the pavement, head first and feet last with the red scarf fluttering in the air behind her blue trenchcoat. Everyone who saw her gasped and stepped out of the way, even though she was flying above their heads. It took a bit of an effort for her, and all of her focus, to not suddenly fall down and accidentally kick someone in the head. She had not nearly full control over this flying thing yet.
But now, everyone knew. Everyone who was walking the busy streets of Stockholm this morning could clearly see her. A flying Atlantean. The new age was here, and she would be at its front lines. By god, she would.
Her smile grew wider as she arrived at the library that they had closed down and refashioned overnight into the Atlantean Relief Centre of Stockholm. Agnes tried to land on the tiny plaza in front of it, near a fountain. The streets around the centre were filled with people walking slower just to try and get a look at some of the rumored powers that could be here. Now they got to watch how Agnes misjudged her landing procedure and ended up landing with her belly on the ledge around the fountain, hands down into the water and the tips of her two braids dipped as well. No one laughed as she got up, though. They just kept staring. Agnes felt irritation but stared back valiantly and made a hasty motion with her arm just to intimidate them. It worked; the closest onlookers almost jumped and then swiftly made their way away from the plaza.
Agnes couldn't help giggling a little at that, but then she saw someone approach her in the corner of her eye. A big man in security clothing. "Come with me, fröken," he said in Swedish. "Don't resist."
"Wouldn't dream of it!" Agnes said, holding her hands up innocently. She was escorted inside the library by the untalkative security man who left her in a line of people in the lobby. Glancing forward, Agnes tried to study the other supposed Atlanteans there. They didn't look odd at all. Just like normal humans. Then again... so did she. Well, relatively so.