Λtlantis Λwakening [IC] [M]
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March 6th, 2013 (10:57 AM).
It was justified
Join Date: Mar 2011
James Hazen- Taxi Cab, Honolulu, Hawaii
October 31st, 2012
With a nod of the head, the taxi cab driver pulled into the road and began driving to the direction of the airport. James rubbed his hands together, his foot tapping uncontrollably. He was nervous, his heart racing from the events that just transpired. But he had to calm down. He didn't want to draw any attention to himself. If anything could ever be noticed in Hawaii, it was when someone was acting too nervous or jittery.
"Now, do you think the airport is a good idea?" The cab driver asked James, in an accent definitely not of a typical Hawaiian. James couldn't tell for sure, but it seemed British. The man arched his head back and smiled at him. James did not return the style, but instead began to try to think of who the man could possibly be. "It's just a little bit suspicious, don't you think? A young person, like yourself, taking a spontaneous flight to somewhere with nothing on them but a passport and a little bit of money."
The last sentence caused James to begin to panic, although he did his best to try not to show it on his face. He had to play it cool. He couldn't give the man anything to work with that he could use later. By now, James had already assumed that the man was from some sort of authority, which means he probably could have been bugged. Judging by the comment, he probably could have been following him the entire time, ever since he discovered his power. While these thoughts and more raced through his head, James stared long and hard at the man, letting him continue to speak as he remained silent. He was definitely from some sort of police force, or worse. At least, that is what James first assumed. But there was no mention of powers or Atlanteans, or anything of the nature, so he couldn't assumed anything just yet.
Then, he let go of the wheel entirely. James's heart beat as he grabbed hold of the side of the car, believing that the vehicle was about to veer off the road, but no such thing happened. Instead, it remained as still and steady as ever. At this point, James had no idea what the hell to believe. Still, he sat in silence, hoping an explanation was coming, and also hoping he wasn't about to be arrested, or killed.
"With the news about the Atlanteans and this new 'registration' act, one look at that on your neck," he pointed to the tattoo on James's neck, "and you'll be detained, kept for questioning and probably sent to some jail somewhere where they can make sure no 'accidents' will happen. I'm not sure you've thought this through."
The car suddenly made a left turn on the street, the man still not making contact with the wheel. The way he described the situation, it didn't seem like he was actually with the authorities. The fiasco with the car gave James a different idea.
, he thought. But that still left the question of what he wanted. Was he here to kill him? No, if he wanted to do that, he probably would have done it a while ago. It seemed he was here for a different reason, one not fully apparent to James. James tried to break down the facts. He was an Atlantean, James was almost fully sure of that. He was most likely not in his normal clothing, as he had made himself dress as the locals would. His accent was one most likely of England, which meant he had traveled a long way to come here. Was he after James specifically, or just on the way to others? While James collected the information to try to put something together, he looked to the side of the street, wondering if a fall out of the taxi cab at that speed would kill him. It most likely wouldn't, but it would leave him with cuts, bruises, and most likely broken bones. James wasn't sure he was ready to take that route yet. Not until he knew what this man wanted. But if he would discover that his life was in danger, James would do whatever he had to to get out.
James crossed his arms, trying to seem as casual as he could, given the situation. He eyed the taxi driver. "You have a better idea?" He asked the man, hoping this response would be adequate enough to get the reason for his visit without giving away information on the off chance he really was a cop.
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