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Old March 8th, 2013 (06:20 PM).
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Swolligator
Butcher of the Sands
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Join Date: Sep 2009
Location: Syndicate HQ
Age: 23
Gender: Male
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Leo Cabrillo - Braga, Portugal


Tuesday October 30th, 2012
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to lay to rest Andre Martinez Romanos Cabrillo, a loved son and doted brother…”

Leo kept a stern face throughout the whole proceedings while his parents and relatives wept in grievance. Inside it felt as if he was being ripped apart piece by piece, but he kept those feelings in check; continuing to be the adored older brother Andre had thought he was. He refused now more than ever to shave the beard that had now grown wildly across his face; a joke Andre had made about it being his ‘mane’. The ceremony was a simple one with a single tombstone; not that there was much left of Andre to bury…

“This is bull, how could the AUP do something like this? Why did they have to target my brother? Do they want a war like no other on their hands?” Leo growled, he was slowly letting the staunch façade go to be replaced by his underlying self.

“You have my condolences, Leo, but to be honest Andre should not have been in Berlin in the first place.”

“Katerina! Have some respect, we’re not all battle hardened like you.” River interjected, today’s choice of clothing was a red and black Cheongsam; hugging close enough to her body to display her rather slim lines.

“Thank you, the both of you, but mi hermano shouldn’t have been in Berlin…” Leo trailed off before doubling over as his body sprouted fur and bones began to realign. It was a painful process, but Leo somehow managed to do it with as little pain as possible; something Andre had admired about him. Soon a golden lion stood where Leo had, and with a giant roar it bounded into the forest that bordered their estate.

Katerina scoffed, looking around to make sure none of their ‘non-Atlantean’ guests had seen the commotion. She felt a hand grasp her shoulder, turning her towards River’s stern face.

“Let him be, he’s cut on the inside; it doesn’t take a Telekinetic to understand that.”

“What happened to our ‘fearless’ leader?”

“His brother died. Not everyone is as bulletproof as you. Now, how about that wine? I’m thinking red might be a bit insensitive…” The two ladies walked back up to the house where the rest of the procession had congregated. Tomorrow they would be heading back to Boston, while she trusted Justin, River wasn’t entirely sure he could handle all the affairs by himself for more than a day or two.

Katerina Lukyanenko – Stokholm, Sweden


Wednesday October 31st, 2012
It hadn’t been her choice to come to Sweden, but Katernia’s Swedish roots on her mother side gave her an upper hand in dealing with the locals. She wasn’t your typical desk jockey either, so sitting in the Atlantean Relief Centre sifting through pages of registered Atlanteans quickly gave her a headache.

“I’m going outside,” she announced, because of who she was, no one would oppose nor object to her act of leaving.

Once outside, she felt the cool, Autumn breeze wash over her, inhaling deeply. Instinctually, she reached for her pocket, soon realising that she had no cigarettes left and cursed her way through Swedish, Russian and possibly Turkish. To her left, she could see the rather short line through the double doors of the library they had set up in. What amazed her was the amount of people who were trying to pass off as Atlantean. At the doors, each guard injected the self-proclaimed Atlanteans with a gene marker; if the injection area raised up, the person was Atlantean. For anybody else, it would simply fade; and they would be turned away.

Suddenly a girl flew up into the air and the guards jumped to restrain her. Another girl entered the scene scantily clad and Katerina soon saw this getting out of hand quickly as the guards tried to restrain the frantic girls.

She grabbed hold of the door handle quickly, before making a beeline for the guards, “What the hell is going on?” She roared in Swedish, swinging her now metal fist into the first guard making a lunge towards the scantily clad girl and then sending her elbow into the guard who restrained the flying girl. With both now free, she sent the guards packing back to the line before addressing the two girls.

“Sorry about them, they are only human. I am Katerina Lukyanenko of the Royal Family, would you two girls like to follow me inside?” She addressed both in Swedish, offering a hand politely.
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