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  #1    
Old September 24th, 2011, 07:49 PM
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revlis
The Sentinel
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ATLANTIS ARISING
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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.

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
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Last edited by revlis; August 28th, 2012 at 08:35 PM. Reason: Now it looks good.
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  #2    
Old October 19th, 2011, 01:27 AM
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revlis
The Sentinel
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Blayze Nalaar – Berlin, Germany

Ever since the revealing of the Atlantean race to the general public, life has become tough for me to move around. I guess being the leader of the Atlantean race means that I am supposed to be this figure head, that I am supposed to unite the Atlantean Race, but in reality, the unification of our race is the last thing on my list of agendas. When the five of us first came together as friends and comrades, we had thought that we were the only ones on the earth that had access to powers and as such pretended to be superheroes. We helped out the world as shadows, keeping the rest of the populace guessing who we were and what our real motivations were. In all honesty, we were just teenagers fooling around with abilities we were only just learning to control.

Learning of how our own families had superpowers as well astonished us; we lost touch with our childish ‘hero’ mind sets and begun to think of plans on a grander scale. We weren’t just by products of human evolution, no; we were the products of careful cultivation of our own race of people. Far superior that the thousands of humans out there, we were a part of one of the oldest races in the world; one lost to history books and myths. As we grew into adults, we began to realise the true nature of the world and the true inner workings of society; soon we came up with our own plan not just for the revival of our race, but for the dawning of a new age.

Yet a week after revealing our existence to the public, I found myself crawling through the crowded streets of Berlin, trying to keep out of sight and unnoticed. I knew that if I even slipped up in a miniscule way and someone realised my identity, I would be in deep trouble. With hood dragged over my head and sight downcast, I wove between the bodies of the mortals whom crammed the sidewalks. My destination was a small café near the centre of town, not a place I wished to be, but my contact assured me that it was safe.

It wasn’t long before I was joined at the table by my contact whom like me supported a hoodie disguising his face. When he looked at me I realised why; this guy’s Atlantean Tattoo covered most of the left side of his face, winding and weaving in a brilliant pattern of whirls and spirals.

“Blayze Nalaar, I assume?” he spoke in a low drawl, his eyes moving constantly as he took in every aspect of my face.

“You assume correctly, Mr?” I responded, my New Zealand accent slipping through into my speech, putting him off a bit, yet not stopping him from looking me over.

“Tillmann, I’m glad you came on such short notice.” He seemed to be switching between both German and English, something to throw me off, or at least keep me preoccupied. Was he up to something?

“Well Mr Tillmann, I could not offer up the opportunity to speak to you, I only wish that you could accept my offer.” I wasn’t one to play silly childish games, simple and straight to the point was the way I worked.

“I’m going to have to say no, this is the end of your tyranny, Mr Nalaar.” Within seconds the man grew red hot, his Atlantean Tattoo glowing white as he unleashed his ability. “This is the end,” he said before the café erupted in flames and a large chunk of Berlin was reduced to rubble.

Michael Cale – Lancaster, England

No matter how much Michael tried to focus and concentrate on his ability, it never seemed to manifest itself in the ways that he willed it to; more often than not, not manifesting at all. Michael was lying on his bed, a box with items within sitting at the foot of his bed. For several hours already, Michael had been looking at the box, willing his vision to switch so that he could see into it, yet despite how many hundreds of different ways he tried, none seemed to activate his ability or produce any results. Finally coming to a stage where giving up was his only option, he kicked the box off the end of his bed before arising and heading out to the lounge where his flatmates gathered; stepping over the spilled contents of the box.

Michael knew he had the ability to see through objects, on more than one occasion he had slipped into the vision and seen things he wished he could forget, yet no one believed him. His flatmates were pretty sure he was crazy and his friends thought he was trying to seek attention with the revelation of the Atlanteans, but even showing them his Tattoo was not enough. They needed proof; something he could not offer. He finally made it to the lounge where he took a seat next to Anastasia whose concentration was locked on the television; a news announcement blaring on the screen. She hushed him as he entered the room and sat down, his attention immediately piqued by the urgent news report that had taken over the usual program.

“…a large explosion occurring in Berlin, Germany today, thought to be the work of Atlanteans has rushed a bill through the United Nations calling for all Atlanteans to register themselves and their abilities with the local Atlantean Centre in all capital cities. The Atlantean Royal Family, lacking to presence of leader Blayze Nalaar, has today agreed with the UN authorities to support their decision and were the first to register. Anybody now caught using Atlantean Abilities without being registered or carrying a registration card will face detainment.”

Michael had his bags packed and was on a train to the capital within an hour of the broadcast. He left his flatmates behind with little warning; none of them were really worried about him leaving since he never really talk to any of them. All except Anastasia who questioned Michael about what he was doing, but in true Michael style he kept quiet and left without a second word. During the entire train ride he was continually questioning himself, was this really necessary? All he could do was look through walls, it’s not like that could blow up a whole city? He was weak at best so did he really need to sign up? All these questions and more raced around Michael’s head, clearing as the train pulled into the station.

Michael had not been to London since he left his father in Heathrow Airport so he knew very little about London, but lucky for him the Atlantean Centre of Great Britain was only two blocks west from the station. It was only a little walk for Michael but still the questions plagued his mind like a parasite. Even as he was waiting in line at the centre, the questions still buzzed around his mind, yet it took second place to the awe of the other hundreds of people whom like himself has come to sign up. He watched as several were turned away; most likely imposters, and others were let through into another room.

After waiting in line for around an hour, Michael had finally made it to the front of the line where two police officers flanked the door through, one looking menacing while the other held a needle which he jabbed sharply into Michael’s upper arm. Soon, a raised bump the size of a coin appeared and the policemen ushered Michael through: the needle having some sort of reagent that could prove if you were Atlantean or not. In the room a couple of doctors had stations set up where they tested people and took down details. Michael took a seat at a nearby station, the doctor barely taking a look at him.

“Name?” the doctor said sharply, obviously tired from taking down details all day.

“Michael Cale.” I replied trying to keep from annoying the already stressed doctor.

It took a while for him to take down all my details, including a description of my ability, and once finished, he handed me a slip of paper including a copy of my details, directing me through another set of doors into a waiting room of sorts where people stood against walls and sat on the floor; no seats in sight. One by one people left the room, but twice as many came in at the same time. All he could do now was wait.
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Last edited by Skymin; January 3rd, 2012 at 12:27 PM. Reason: Continuity!
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Old October 20th, 2011, 08:24 PM
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Skymin
the gratitude pokémon
 
Join Date: Sep 2006
Location: australia
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Oakley North - London, England

“…a large explosion occurring in Berlin, Germany today, thought to be the work of Atlanteans has rushed a bill through the United Nations calling for all Atlanteans to register themselves and their abilities with the local Atlantean Centre in all capital cities. The Atlantean Royal Family, lacking to presence of leader Blayze Nalaar, has today agreed with the UN authorities to support their decision and were the first to register. Anybody now caught using Atlantean Abilities without being registered or carrying a registration card will face detainment.”

"This is all a little surreal, don't you think?" Oakley's dad gave her a small laugh. She looked back at him with a bleak smile. Surreal? She should know. It was all quite unbelievable to her. Ever since the Atlanteans 'revealed' themselves, Oakley's life had gone from perfect to one big pile of crap. She had been on her way to graduating from such a prestigious academy with good marks to sitting on her father's lounge chair with her right arm tied up in a fake sling and cast. She didn't like lying to her father. In fact, she had not done so since she was like five and told him she had not cleaned her teeth before bed. But for this, it was important. He didn't need to know about the freakish pieces of armor that grew on her arm, or how it could expand to like four times the size of her actual arm when she got too stressed. He would just worry. Since Oakley's mother's death or her brother's separation from the family, he didn't need anything that would make him bust a valve again. He was the best he had been in a while. "What do you think, Oakley?" She snapped her head to him when she heard her name. Was this a test? Did he know? Did he suspect something? She felt a twinge of pain in her right arm. Oh god, it was moving.

"Hah, I don't know!" she said, her voice shaking slightly. Oh god, it's going to explode and he's going to find out and Oakley won't be able to explain anything. "Super powers sound a little bit like nonsense to me, ha-ah..."

"Are you alright, Oaks?" Her father frowned at her. She shook her head furiously and stood up as the pain moved up her arm, reaching her elbow. She grabbed it and squeezed it tightly, adding some more to her father's confusion.

"Yes, yeah, I'm okay! I'm just gonna... lie down. My arm hurts," and with that, she quickly scurried off to her room, gripping her arm with her left hand as tight as she could. As soon as she was inside her room, she slammed the door behind her and immediately pulled off the fake cast and sling. Just as she thought. The armor had moved up to her elbow, even going as so far as making her forearm expand. And it hurt. She couldn't say like a broken arm, on account she had never had her arm broken before. But if she could take a wild guess, this was probably it.

So then and there, sitting on the floor of her temporary bedroom in her father's house in London, she made up her mind. She was going to run away.

* * *

"What's your power?"

"What?"

"I said, what's your power?"

"I... Why?" Oakley frowned at the stranger behind her in line. He was older than she was, probably 23 or 24, though it confused her why he was curious. As soon as Oakley had packed her things in a backpack, rewrapped her arm back up and told her father she was 'heading out to the store', she had left for the bus station. The closest one of these 'Atlantean Centres' was the London one, which happened to be one of the most busiest places she had ever been to. People were everywhere, lining up in lines to prove their Atlantean existence. Some were lead to rooms, some were turned away. She turned back to the man, who gave out a cheesy grin.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours. Mine is super bad ass," he gave her cast a sheepish look. Oakley frowned and shook her head. She didn't want another accident.

"Whatever!" he laughed again. "Mine is so awesome! Just watch!" He held his breath and then exhaled as his face turned red. Then, he clapped his hands and smiled back at her. With no difference whatsoever. "See?"

"Nothing happened," Oakley stared at him, trying to find some difference. Nope, nothing.

"Dude, I glow. You just can't see it at daytime!"

"What?"

"Next!" Oakley spun around as it was her turn, blinking at herself. He glowed? What? She approached two guards, police officers maybe, who quickly jabbed her left arm with a needle. She gasped and as they pulled it out, a small bump appeared, which then was covered over with a growth of armor. With a nod, they let her through, hearing a "what, that metal stuff on her arm! That's your power?! Lame!" behind her from the guy. She was lead to a room with several desks, doctors behind them and asking questions to people at desks. Oakley was pushed to a desk, where a very tired looking lady looked over her glasses and spoke with the most monotonous voice.

"Name?"

"Oakley North."

"And what's your ability, Oakey?" The doctor leaned her head on her shoulder and her eyelids drooped. Was she bored? Tired? Both? Oakley inhaled then pulled off the cast, revealing the armor plates. The doctor immediately sat up, rubbed her eyes then began to jot notes. She asked questions as Oakley answered them as shortly as possible. When they were done, Oakley wrapped her arm back up, was handed a slip of paper and motioned to another door. This one was to a large waiting room, full of people. She pulled a face and carefully picked a spot on the ground. One with the least amount of dirt and people. She gave a sigh. What a day. At least her armor hadn't acted up since she got here. She felt surprisingly at peace, with all her freakish brethren surrounding her, but uncomfortable enough to avoid anyone. Still, she was not up for unwrapping her arm for any kind of random person yet.
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  #4    
Old October 23rd, 2011, 04:05 PM
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Join Date: Apr 2011
Location: In a dream, within a dream....
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Nature: Calm
Nickolai closed his eyes and concentrated. He was in his house, with his blinds closed to limit distractions. He took deep breaths and focused on the task at hand. He slowly placed his hand on his iPhone, and allowed himself to be sucked into the small machine, exploring the depths of the world within. He lingered around for a few moments, checking his mail and texts mentally, then pushed them aside to focus on his real goal. He turned on the wifi, and opened the machine to world wide web. It really was like it was shown in the movies, a globe with streams on data being transmitted from place to place. It was like a highway of information that sped around the globe faster than the eye could blink. He explored the data highway for a little while, then turned to his real goal.

The Atlanteans. Even the Atlanteans, who were new to society as a whole still had a website. A highly encrypted website, but still a website. Nickolai's technokinesis had to have come from somewhere, and he believed it was from the Atlanteans. He cautiously probed their firewalls, searching for gaps in it to find his way in. Information was what he was looking for, about the Atlanteans. They were a very mysterious bunch, and Nickolai was unable to find out very much about them, even when he had hacked into the CIA.

This wall however, was much harder to get into. He searched the wall until he finally found a place where he thought he might be able to hack his way in. He quickly examined the gap, then tried to force his way in. His thoughts became actions in the network, as he tried to force his way through to the information on the other side. Then the fire wall quickly retaliated, blasting him out of the site, and back into reality with a jolt. He sat there for a moment, his pulse racing , as he processed what had happened. This was his third time trying to get into the site, and his third failure. He would probably need much more practice before he could figure anything out though.

He sighed and rose from the chair where he was sitting, and opened the blinds covering the windows. Then he touched the remote, turning the TV on and cycling through the channels until he found something interesting. He flipped through a few channels, then came back to a news network that had caught his eye.

"-be the work of Atlanteans has rushed a bill through the United Nations calling for all Atlanteans to register themselves and their abilities with the local Atlantean Centre in all capital cities. The Atlantean Royal Family, lacking to presence of leader Blayze Nalaar, has today agreed with the UN authorities to support their decision and were the first to register. Anybody now caught using Atlantean Abilities without being registered or carrying a registration card will face detainment.”

Nickolai thought for a moment, then turned the TV off. He sighed and ran his fingers through his short, spiked hair, then grabbed his jacket. He might as well, he knew that he wouldn't be able to hide his ability forever. As he left the door, he picked up his iPhone again, accessing the cell phone network and quickly scanned all available information he could find about the Atlantean Centre in general. There wasn't much, but enough to convince him that nothing bad was going to happen. He hoped.

He thought about the past few days, where he had learned about his ability, and took time to explore it. It hadn't been easy, and it took a while to get used to. There were still times where he had messed up, like when he had accidentally caused a satellite to drop out of orbit and crash in the Atlantic. But he was getting better. Who knows, he might be able to hack into the Atlantean network soon.

He quickly put on his helmet, and jumped onto his motorcycle, and took off down his driveway and onto the quiet road that would lead him to the Atlantean Centre. Upon arriving, he parked his bike and walked into the building. A small crowd had gathered, that formed a line almost to the doors.

After standing in line for a few minutes, a boy about 18 asked him "So can you do?"

Nickolai stared at him for a moment, then replied "How about you tell me first."

The boy shrugged and opened his mouth, revealing what he had eaten for breakfast that morning, not a pleasant sight. Nickolai stared and said "Well, that was...um...very impressive. So what were you doing again?"

The boy smiled and said "I can make my tongue stretch! So, what is your ability?"

Nickolai considered ignoring the delusional boy, but then asked him "Do you have a phone?" The boy handed over a Droid, and Nickolai placed it in his palm. Droids, what a laughable product, so rugged in their programming. Nickolai closed his eyes, concentrated for a moment, then handed the phone back.

"You didn't do anything." the boy said after a moment.'

Nickolai looked at him with a smile, then said "Oh, you might want to check you download list. I think that I might have downloaded about 10,000 songs for you free. Have fun talking to the cops." Then he turned away and walked forward, where it was his turn next. A guard stabbed him in the arm with a long needle, which caused a small lump to appear on his arm. The guard nodded and let him through, where he then had to talk to a small man with glasses behind a desk.

The man asked him about his abilities, and Nickolai took the next ten minutes explaining and demonstrating his ability. After the man dismissed him, he was ushered into a room with a couple dozen other people and told to wait.He sat down in a corner and put his headphones in, listening to music while he waited.
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Last edited by Silver Rogue; October 23rd, 2011 at 08:45 PM.
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Old October 24th, 2011, 04:42 PM
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Raikiri
Vanguard
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Age: 23
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Christian Calaway- London, England

"Chris! Chris! You gotta wake up mate!" A voice burst through a door, tearing it off its hinges.

"Bill, leave me alone…I need some sleep" Christian groaned, rolling in his bed pulling the covers over his head.

"Come on, man. It's getting late. We have to go to class soon anyway," Bill pouted with concern. "Trust me, getting up for this is worth it," he continued as he knew Christian would say something along the lines of 'Class isn't for a while'. Christian rolled around to face Bill with a blank expression. "I'll take that as you'll get up," Bill chuckled in victory.

Christian emerged from his dark room, still in his pajamas, groggy and tired. He was rubbing his eyes still as the conscious world was becoming gradually more clear to him. His roommates, Bill (the rude awakener and his best friend here), Charlie (Bill's friend from high school) and Arthur (the only one more reclusive than Christian himself) huddled together around the small television that Nicolas bought Christian for his room abroad. While small, it still got job done and fortunately Bill and Charlie pooled money together to get basic cable or the English equivalent to such a thing. Christian didn't catch the details, nor did he care for them. As Christian grew closer to the television and his consciousness restored, a news report rung through his ears.

“…a large explosion occurring in Berlin, Germany today, thought to be the work of Atlanteans has rushed a bill through the United Nations calling for all Atlanteans to register themselves and their abilities with the local Atlantean Centre in all capital cities. The Atlantean Royal Family, lacking to presence of leader Blayze Nalaar, has today agreed with the UN authorities to support their decision and were the first to register. Anybody now caught using Atlantean Abilities without being registered or carrying a registration card will face detainment.”

Christian was in a temporary state of shock. He had since his abilities manifested recently, he could get anyway not having to worry about getting caught "smoking". However, now everything became just a little more difficult, if only because Christian's powers were not in complete control.

"Pretty crazy stuff eh?" Bill said to his roommates.

"You can say that again, mate," Charlie replied, letting the news report run in the background as he rose from the small couch and stretched, releasing a huge yawn. Probably slept there again, Christian thought. Everyone turned to Arthur for his response to the news report, but he just grunted and went back into his room. They turned to Christian, who was still processing his thoughts.

"You okay, Chris?" They both asked simultaneously.

"Oh, yes. I'm fine. Just shocked a bit," Christian said.

Bill and Charlie raised an eyebrow each, judging him. Bill cleared his throat. "You are rarely shocked by things," he replied.

"It's nothing to worry about," Christian assured his friends. He returned to his room and slammed the door shut and fell into his chair. His desk was covered in books, papers, organized in small piles. Many of them were unrelated to one another, but there was one trend: history, myths and ancient texts. After the Atlanteans revealed themselves, Christian took an invested interest in them. It had only been a week or so (he lost track of in between everything), but nevertheless Christian got caught up in the whole "being from Atlantis" concept. It is not everyday you learn grandma and grandpa were probably mermaids or something. He wanted to learn about his heritage, but sadly he did not find as much as he had hoped for. Mostly he found legends, stories and things that just didn't add up. Christian thought he was only looking in the wrong place, but this wasn't a time to dwell on his lack of findings. It was a time to just deal with the facts. He is an Atlantean and he had to answer the summons and meet more members of his kind. It was at this point he drew comparisons to mankind's most constant equality: Fear. Humans always fight what they fear and try to lock it away so it cannot fight back as if they fear losing their position at the top of the food chain. Christian sighed at this realization, knowing he wanted to fight back at this injustice but he could not do anything at the moment. It would take time. He was mostly stressed at having to go out for an extended period of time. During his time researching, trying to learn about his origin, he was trying to hone his powers. Wishing he had more time, Christian managed to be able to maintain a physical form, and got a grip on the most basic aspects of his powers. A lot was left to be desired, but he was content with the results. More control would come with time. At least he learned being emotional made his control erratic.

He gathered his things, clothes and some paperwork and stepped out of his room. Bill and Charlie were cooking up some breakfast, and as usual Arthur's room was locked to all. He snuck into the bathroom and washed up, in a daze, doing everything without much thought. The only thing awoke up from his daze was when Christian stared in the mirror, noticing some more streaks of gray in his black mane. Putting on his regular outfit (accessories and all), halfway soaked with his hair still wet, Christian stepped out of the bathroom. He packed his bag with a few necessities but curiously left a few stapled papers on the table. He made his way to the closet beside the door and put on his favorite black and red racing jacket, almost forgetting his black racing helmet with the design of his favorite game painted on the sides and back. "Taking the bike out?" Bill's voice said in the distance. "You do remember we got class in a bit right?"

"Yeah," Christian muttered. "I do not think i am going to class today. Can you give my professors the papers on the table for me?"

"Yeah, but what do you want me to tell them?"

"Make up a story. You are good at those," Christian replied with complimentary charm.

"Think you will be home tonight?" Charlie interrupted the little moment. "I was going to cook up something for supper tonight. Its for a class. I need to cook up an original dish and survey it. I was hoping you'd help, You are the only one honest enough to tell me if it is terrible or not. Bill's too nice and Arthur never talks."

"I'll have to see. I'll try. Call you guys later," Christian said with a half wave, closing the door gently on his way out. Hating elevators, Christian walked down the stairs into the lower levels of the parking garage. He was the only one with any sort of vehicle, so by default he got to keep the parking spot all to himself. Mounting his motorcycle, Christian secured his bag, put on his gloves and equipped his helmet before racing off in typical egotistical motorcycle fashion. Rarely one to observe traffic laws, Christian raced through the crowded streets of London only respecting the foreign laws when he noticed a police officer in the vicinity. He got pulled once before, barely able to walk away with a warning. He took a number of shortcuts through some alleys on his way to the Atlantean Centre. He arrived later than he wanted to however, unable to bypass the influx of vehicles and people at the centre. It seemed many people saw the news report and wanted to sign up for the register card as to avoid any sort of unsightly incidents.

Upon entering the building, he was directed a painfully long line. It seemed to make no progress in the hour or so that he remained on the line, though he witnessed a number of people be rejected. Why anyone would want to pose as an Atlantean was beyond Christian's comprehension. The only reasonable explanation would be gain insight into the society itself. Not that would do much.

After some time, it was his turn. A menacing guard and his close friend, stabbed Christian in the arm with some sort of needle (luckily he took his jacket off a while back when he entered the building or otherwise the whole building would up in smoke) leaving a bump in its wake. He was lead through the doors and ended up in a room with a few doctors to undergo further tests. It seemed whatever solution was in the needle was a preliminary round. Now it was time for the real test. Christian sat a desk and stared his doctor waiting for the next step.

"Name?" the doctor asked, apathetic at the whole situation. Bored of the day, Christian was already getting a bad feeling about it. The needle from earlier didn't help.

"Christian Calaway." The two corresponded briefly, taking down Christian's information. The minor details that Christian said offhand with little concern for the repercussions. He had to give him the information even if he didn't want or face punishment later.

"And what can you do, Mr. Calaway?" The doctor asked, trying his best to sound polite and interested. Clearly this doctor got the boring ones. It was this time that Christian reached a crossroads. He could explain his power in a polite manner or he could demonstrate his power in a rebellious manner because of his opposition of profiling every one of his people out of some form of fear. He decided against the latter, but still wanted to cause some uproar. Christian transformed himself into a thick gray fog like substance, gradually filling the room with smoke, causing the weaker people in the room to suffer from minor asthma attacks. After a few moments and nearly causing the fire alarm to beep, he recollected the generated smoke into his body and returned to a solid state. Truthfully, he intended only to transform and flutter around...but the doctor would get the point.

"I control smoke (poorly)."

"I can see that…" the doctor said speechless. He handed Christian the finished paperwork and directed him to the waiting room. It was a crowded room, full of people and rarely any seats. Christian leaned on a wall, playing with his hair a bit before finally taking a deep breath.
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Old October 28th, 2011, 04:55 AM
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Michael Cale - London, England

Michael had been waiting for nearly half an hour, lost in his own thoughts of where he would go and what he would do, not to mention what life would be like once he was identified as Atlantean. Atlanteans technically did not possess rights as such, so life could become very difficult for Michael, losing his job and also his place in the University scared him a little. Becoming an Atlantean meant that Michael would be forfeiting his status as Human and replacing it with Atlantean. His life may not have been the best, but it was all that he had made it be and losing that all scared him. His legs beneath him began to ache, so he slid down the wall to the slightly dusty ground, letting out a breath as he lowered to the ground. Once there he pushed the problems that plagued his mind to the side and turned to the younger girl next to him.

“Hey,” he said cautiously, eyes downcast, “I’m Michael, you are?” From his line of sight, all he could make out was her clothing; a grey shirt hidden behind a giant cast, accompanied by a small skirt and leggings. To top it all off, she had a pair of slightly worn ballet flats. To Michael, this style of dress seemed kind of odd, but he did not want to agitate her by commenting.

At first she didn’t answer him and Michael took this as a sign that she did not want to talk, to him at least, so as he turned away he muttered, “it’s okay, you don’t have to answer.” Looking in the opposite direction towards the blank wall, he began to worry again as the problems returned to plague his mind once more.
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Old October 28th, 2011, 06:19 AM
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Oakley North - London, England

"Où suis-je?" To pass the time, Oakley mumbled to herself. Not like a crazy person, no, just under her breath. Doing something always made time go faster and one thing she enjoyed doing to pass the time was flick between the different languages she knew. It was hard and gave her something to focus on other than her arm. "Maybe I shouldn't have left... uh, oh, um, père serait... inquiet. Or maybe I, O tal vez debería... said something. Haber dicho algo. Oui. This... is difficile! Oh boy."

"Hey."

Oakley turned her as she heard a voice address her. Not by name, but the short "hey" thrown at her direction by a boy, no a man next to her. She looked at him for a minute as she tried to understand his question. Sure, it seemed simple enough to any other person, but was there a hidden meaning? Why had he asked her out, out of all these people? She thought she had tried to blend in, or at least made it a little obvious that she wanted to be left alone without being rude. What was it? Did he know something, suspect something? Was the cast too suspicious? When she had taken too long thinking about, he turned his head away from her.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to answer,” she barely heard the words came out of his mouth. She frowned a little and turned her to face him. She couldn't see his face, only the back of his head. His hair was weird, dirty blonde with lighter blonde streaks. It was... messy. A little weird. But what weirded her most was his name. Michael. She only had the foggy image of a 12 year old boy in her mind when she thought that name. The same kind of feeling when you heard your own name but it was not you who that person was talking about. A shimmer of hope, only met with defeat. Hah, she was definitely thinking this through too hard.

"J'avais un frère... oh!" She had not said this too loud, just enough to remember what she was doing. Whoops. "Uh, have a brother called Michael," she thought aloud. She did want to share anything that would bring too much attention to her, something that would draw it away from her and to someone else. Back to him. He would say something about knowing a lot of people called Michael (it was quite a common name after all) and she would return with something about how her name was unique and then the conversation would run dry, unless he questioned her if they stayed on the topic of her too long. Her. Her clothes? Her arm. It twinged a little.

Yep, thinking about it all a little too hard.
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Old November 2nd, 2011, 05:01 AM
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Leon Nef- Verona Italy

Leon sat in the single room apartment he was residing, three of his acquaintances sat with him. They were all apart of the same borgata, a sort of small gang. Leon usually never made it a habit of his to associate openly with criminals, but ever since he had discovered his powers, and the Atlanteans became a common name among people, he had abandoned what little respect he had left for the law. He knew where this was going. He would witness as people like him would get oppressed and oppressed, until it was outright discrimination. Not if he could help it.

So he decided it was time for a change in lifestyle. Before, he stole to survive, barely making it by. When the strange tattoo appeared across his face, and he discovered his powers, he not only stole to survive, but made a little extra along the way. Why not? Might as well make full use of his techniques. The extra attention was unnecessary, but Leon was fortunate to have legally changed his name a long time ago, and often uses fake names all the time, even among these borgata. To them, he was just uomo, or man. The local police know of him, and are looking for him to slip up one time before arresting him, looking for Leon to mess up one time, one false move, one mistake. Leon enjoyed the challenge. But then came the announcement on TV.


“…a large explosion occurring in Berlin, Germany today, thought to be the work of Atlanteans has rushed a bill through the United Nations calling for all Atlanteans to register themselves and their abilities with the local Atlantean Centre in all capital cities. The Atlantean Royal Family, lacking to presence of leader Blayze Nalaar, has today agreed with the UN authorities to support their decision and were the first to register. Anybody now caught using Atlantean Abilities without being registered or carrying a registration card will face detainment.”

Oh, wonderful, Leon thought to himself, the police are gonna have a blast with this.

It was all the convincing Leon needed to get out of here. He might as well register. He wasn't looking to get arrested for doing nothing, after all. If they were going to detain him, he'd prefer it if he actually did something. The other three looked at him, knowing what would happen next. They took turns saying goodbyes. Leon wouldn't admit it out in the open, but he had grown rather fond of them. He still teased them all the time, but they finally understood what he meant by it.

After they said their goodbyes to each other, Leon left the city. He made up his mind to never return there. He had stayed too long anyways, going away from the real reason he left home in the first place. The police made searches for him in the coming days, but eventually, they gave up on ever tracking him, and finally, Verona was quiet once again.

Leon meanwhile had made his way out of Italy. He first considered registering in Rome, but decided ultimately if he was leaving Verona, he was leaving Italy completely. He decided to head for the registry center in Bern, Switzerland instead. It was new, and Leon wanted to go somewhere different. Money wasn't an issue with him at this point. He had stolen so much while in Italy, he could afford enough transportation and food to last a lifetime. Still, in case local authorities were on the look-out (which he very much doubted), Leon laid low as he traveled. He went back to his original fake name, Leon Nef now, as there was no way people would be able to track him anyways.

Bern, Switzerland

Upon arriving in Bern, he proceeded in due time to the registry center. A long line is what he was met with, people of supposed Atlantean decent trying to register themselves. Leon was actually quite surprised with how many were actually there. He had no real idea how many there were. Behind another guy around his age, he waited as the line slowly moved towards the front. The other guy in front, obviously bored, turned to face Leon, who looked over at the turned face. He smiled. Leon smiled weakly back.

Eventually, the line made it's way to him in front. Leon proceeded in, where he was stuck with a needle. Leon didn't resist. He assumed it was standard procedure. The doctor there then spoke to him.

"Name?" He asked, without lifting his face.

"Leon Nef." Leon replied coolly.

"And what if your abiltiy, Mr. Nef?" He asked.

Leon paused for a while. He wondered what he should tell him. He was presented now with an opportunity to take advantage of the registry system. If he were to tell them the full extent of his power, they would know upon sight who he was, and what he could do. However, if he told them a different story, he could potentially save his skin in future situations, as well as maintain an element of surprise. The doctor now lifted his face to observe Leon, who finally gave a reply. He sent a very small electrical shock to a nearby lamp which was lit, a shock so tiny, that the doctor probably didn't even see it, and caused it to turn off all of a sudden.

"I can turn on and off lamps without a switch by just pointing to them." Leon said, smiling at the doctor. The doctor wrote that down, eying Leon suspiciously. A few more questions were asked to Leon, who answered them to his preference. He was soon registered....kind of. But he was registered how HE wanted to. Now, if anything too dicey came up, he would have one major thing: the element of surprise.

And he knew if would be useful. As he was handed a slip of paper, and directed into more rooms, he sat there, a half smile on his face as he waited triumphantly for the next part of the registry to happen.
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Old November 4th, 2011, 04:26 AM
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Michael Cale - London, England

The girl next to him muttered in something that sounded like French, before stopping and correcting herself in English. "Uh, I have a brother called Michael". Michael as a child used to speak French around the house with his sister and parents, but once he left them, he never really had much use for French in England, neither Spanish, so he rapidly lost the ability to speak both of these languages. Not that he was any good at speaking them in the first place, he just did so out of necessity to communicate with his family.

"Michael is a pretty common name," Michael replied, sounding quite apathetic about the issue, "what about your name?" he asked her cautiously. She seemed like a socially awkward person, and he didn't want to upset her, especially if she managed to get this far in the screening, she must have had an Atlantean Power of some description. He didn't want to be the one to make her explode in such a small, confined space, especially with the amount of casualties that would occur.

A big lady wearing a coat entered the room opposite of where Michael had entered. He had seen her numerous times before when she had come to collect people to move onwards in the registration process. She held up a clipboard, squinting through her glasses that sat on the bridge of her nose, "Oaklay North?" she called out, the majority of the people looking at the woman hoping for their names to be called. "Oaklay North, Christian Calaway..." she practically yelled the three next names before coming finally to the last name on her list, "and Michael Cale."

Michael's vision started spinning, not because she had called his name, he was actually grateful for being able to leave now, but for the first name on the list she had called out. He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thoughts from his head, but the coincidence was too large to ignore, "could it really be Her" he thought to himself as he got to his feet and watched the others called get to their feet. He was the first to approach the lady, "Michael Cale" he spoke as she waited for the rest to gather.


Jeremy Kyle

Jumping was what Jeremy explained his power as, but it was much more complicated than a single action of upwards motion. To explain it fully would take several mathematical equations, a blackboard, and a couple of massive thesis books from the university library. So he explained it in the simplest way possible; Jumping. When Jeremy jumped, he did so in a particularly weird way. To be able to use his power, Jeremy would jump backwards, picturing clearly in his mind where he wished to go, and in a split second he would appear there. The only complication with his power however, was that he needed to have a clear picture of where he was jumping to in his mind, and unless he had been to a place before, he would not be able to jump there. On numerous occasions he has tried with photographs and postcards, but to no avail.

So when Jeremy was requested by what he considered his superior to practically take someone hostage, his first thought was to scope out the place and find somewhere he could Jump, then secondly was why. But like many times, his superiors were always sketchy on details, telling him as little information as possible. Jeremy liked to tell himself a little lie that it was all for his safety and security, but he knew well enough that it wasn't because of either of those reasons, but rather they preferred to keep him out of it, in case he found out too much. Jeremy was fine with this though, they paid him enough so that he could sustain himself as well as keep happy. Given that his received coordinates were an Atlantean Centre, he assumed that it would be someone like himself who he would be picking up. People were a lot harder to teleport than objects, but he had done it before with minimal casualties. It was the fact that it was someone with a superpower that scared him, since they could possibly kill Jeremy. Letting all that slide away, he started to dream up ideas of having another Atlantean around.

Several minutes later and Jeremy found himself in the middle of a Swiss street, freezing in a shirt and a pair of shorts that he had been wearing when he was in Southern England, enjoying the coast and sunlight. He had been to many Atlantean Centres around the world, and all had the same design and layout, which made it easier for him to teleport in and out of. The Swiss branch in Bern was no different, except perhaps the multitude of people surrounding the building. A buzz on his cellphone told him that his target was in position within the building, the place Jeremy worked for had eyes everywhere, so Jeremy made sure he was extra careful not to slip up, he rubbed his arm tentatively, remembering the time when he had last stuffed up... Continuing on, he decided to get to work, not wanting to keep his employers waiting long. From outside the building, he jumped straight into the secondary waiting room, scanning it quickly for his target while a few people looked up and gawked at him.

Seeing his target, Jeremy disappeared then reappeared right next to him, "You are coming with me!" he said, smiling at Leon Nef, giving his target a split second before he teleported them both to the safe house.

When they arrived, Jeremy had miscalculated his jump, and not only did they land several feet from where they were meant to, they were also a metre in the air, colliding with the hard concrete below. The warehouse was dark save for a small lit spot in the middle of the room where he was supposed to arrive. Grabbing his target's shirt, he pulled Leon up and over to the light. "Come on," he hurried Leon, "we don't want to be late!" giving Leon a big smile.
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Old November 4th, 2011, 11:15 PM
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Oakley North - London, England

As Michael asked for her name yet again, Oakley shied away from the question. Usually, her name wasn't such a big deal; she would have nonchalantly handed it over in exchange for his own if they were simply two students on a train or a random encounter in a coffee shop. Today though, she had no idea what these people could do with her name. Everyone here was supposedly an Atlantean and you really didn't know what everyone could do. As far as she could tell, not everyone had the same power (she was the only one with a screwed up arm) so maybe, just maybe this Michael person was a shapeshifter and would steal her identity later. Maybe he was a mind reader and was gonna see what information he could get out of her. Maybe he was both! What could he possibly already know already?! Oakley winced as the pain started to throb in her arm. She quickly grabbed  her bicep and squeezed it, like she usually did, hoping it would slow it down. It didn't really, only giving her another pain to forget about the other one. Why couldn't she just think, "hey, this Michael person is a nice guy and is just being polite and I should give him an appropriate answer!" She turned towards him with a pained smile and opened her mouth to answer, only to have a lady talk for her.  

"Oaklay North?" 

She winced as she heard her name, albeit pronouced wrongly. Two other names were called, Michael Cale (who was obviously the guy she had been talking to, or rather had been talking to her as he got to his feet and approached the lady) and a bunch of other names (none of which rang any kind of bell). Michael rose to his feet almost straight away and strode over to the lady to announce his presence. Oakley slowly followed, getting up carefully so she didn't pull her arm of the sling or show any part of it. She too approached the lady, her face twisted in a painful smile. 

"Oak-lee," she corrected the lady then looked at Michael, giving him a shy nod, her smile barely fading. "Oakley North. That's me."
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Old November 6th, 2011, 02:39 AM
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Michael Cale - London, England

Michael's head spun when the girl he had been talking to followed him up to meet the lady whom had called their names. "Oakley North. That's me." she said smiling at Michael, the coincidence was just too big. Yeah, the last name was common enough, but there couldn’t have been more than a handful of Oakley North’s in the world, let alone one or two in England. The last he had heard of his sister was that she had gone to a French private school, and that was several years ago. She should still be there in France, but then again he had left his father in Heathrow Airport, would she have really left to be with him? The girl standing next to him looked nothing like Michael’s father, which he guessed was a good thing, and she seemed to look a little too young to be the same age as his sister, yet the coincidence of it was too big to miss. What if this was his sister and he didn’t take the opportunity before it went? Then again, he hadn’t talked to her in many years, and he doubted that she would even remember him.

Then it clicked, “I have a brother called Michael…” she had talked about him as if he was still around, as if they never parted, she had said she still had a brother, and not being in contact as long as they had been, Michael doubted that she would still consider him alive. “But what if…” he thought to himself.

Slowly piecing the words in his head making sure that he was able to be understood, he spoke a small sentence in French, “vous avez étudié dans le sud de la France?” If she answered the question with the answer Michael was anticipating, then he was in for something he was not prepared for. It would be too much of a coincidence for her to be his sister if she had studied in Southern France.

He considered not telling her if she answered, just to keep things simple, but this was his chance to be reunited if it was truly her. It had been far too long since they had last made contact and the feelings of protectiveness that he had felt for her those many years ago had been eating Michael from the inside out; how he hadn’t been able to protect her since leaving. It also saddened him, the thought that this could all just be one big coincidence and that the girl beside him was not his sister at all. He hoped to the Universe, the deity he had heard the Atlantean Royal Family “pray” to before on TV, that it was her.
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Old November 6th, 2011, 03:34 AM
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Natalia Zaytsev - Moscow, Russia

Everything was in place. Equipment set, people in their right positions, support where she needed it. Though the mission itself was simple, Natalia treated it with upmost importance. Everything had to be right, everything had to be exactly in place for this mission to have the highest success rate possible. Anything less than that was unacceptable. Her strict concentration was broken by the ring of her phone. She answered it swiftly, snapping it open and pulling it to her ear in one graceful flick.

"Zaytsev," she answered, her fingers tapping away on her laptop keyboard and eyes glued to the screen.

"Everything's ready."

"Good. I'll be there in five."

"May the light of the Universe shine kindly on you."

She snapped the phone shut, closed her laptop and left the room, the one destination in mind; the Atlantean Centre of Moscow.

* * *

It was a short drive from Natalia's hotel to the centre of Moscow, where the centre was so convieniently placed. This wasn't mere coincidence, as a simple point of origin to return to was a necessity in these kinds of situations. Of course, she had a back up plan. She had a back up plan for the back up plan. She was as ready as she could be. So, with that thought in mind, she stepped through the wall of the Atlantean Centre.

Her body reformed on the otherside of the wall, taking her exactly where she had anticipated; the waiting room for the confirmed Atlanteans. Finding her target was not hard, as she had studied a picture of Nikolai Afon several times. And a plus, nobody had noticed her! It was surprising, but not unexpected. She inhaled and strode confidently towards her target, who was sitting in a corner. Unsocial, separated from the group. It was better than socialising with a big group who would notice his lack of presense if it came to such.

"Nikolai Afron," she said, crouching down next to him, "my name is Natalia Zaytsev and I am part of an Atlantean organisation. We have been surveiling you for the past few days and would be very much interested if you were to join us." Short, sweet and straight to the point, the way Natalia liked to do things. "I would like to explain to you more but I believe here is not the best place. Please come with me." She stood up straight and extended a hand for him.

Oakley North - London, England

"Vous avez étudié dans le sud de la France?"

Oakley raised her eyebrows, surprised at this Michael person. It wasn't every day you saw (or heard, rather) a multi-lingual person that wasn't actually from another country. True, his accent and the rhythm of his words was a little awkward but still, very much surprising. She nodded, her smile warming up a little. Hearing those foreign tones reminded her more of her recent and much more normal life. The one she had been forcibly ripped from. She had been listening to her father's heavy British accent for the past week as well as the 'fabulous' voices of TV presenters and news reporters. At first, when she had first enrolled in her French Academy, she had despised her need to be fluent in French. Now, it made her feel happy. Happier than ever to hear it from someone else.

"Oui! Parlez-vous français aussi?"

Maybe this Michael guy wasn't so bad after all.
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Old November 6th, 2011, 03:50 AM
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Leon Nef - Bern, Switzerland

The triumphant look remained on Leon's face for the next step in his Atlantean registration. Hopefully, it'll only be a little more before he's done, and back out, the worry of getting arrested because of something small like this gone behind him, and the police unaware that he would be more than he seems. And just then, wouldn't you know it, a man comes in and wrecks his mood, and surprises the heck outta him.

A man in shorts and a shirt suddenly appeared in front of Leon, from what it seemed to be thin air. He spoke to Leon.

"You are coming with me!" He yelled, and before Leon had a chance to do anything, they were gone. A few seconds later, Leon appeared somewhere completely different, right in the air. He collided hard with the ground, his head making contact with the ground for a second, possibly producing a bruise.

"Ugh...." Leon managed to get out as he slowly tried to stand, not before the mysterious man grabbed at his shirt and urged him to come.

"Come on, we don't want to be late!" He said. It must have been the bump on the head he just got, because Leon didn't react like he normally would at that moment. For now, he was compelled to follow the smiling stranger. But as his senses seemed to quickly return he finally asked the guy a question back.

"And where exactly are we going?" Leon asked, a tone of confusion and annoyance in his voice. He had gotten back to his senses now, and if he didn't like the answer the guy was gonna give, he'd take him out, and bail.
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Old November 6th, 2011, 06:09 PM
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Michael Cale - London, England

"Oui! Parlez-vous français aussi?"

It took Michael a little bit to understand what she had just said, his French was quite rusty, not having used it in quite a long time. "Je parle..." he started, dredging up the words from the depths of his memory, "...seulement..." he inwardly berated himself for not keeping up with his French, he was stupid enough to ever think that he would never need to use it. "...un peu de français." he finished.

Michael was feeling really uncomfortable with speaking French, so he switched to English, "yeah, I only speak a little France...uh, I mean French," he winced at the obvious mistake he made, but his heart was pounding madly and his head swum with a million thoughts, all revolving around this younger girl here, the coincidence just too big now. Michael wanted so much to tell Oakley that he could possibly be her brother, but the time and setting wasn't quite appropriate and he was also scared that she might blow up, meeting your long lost brother wasn't a thing you did everyday, and who knew what power she had, he didn't want blood on his hands if she did explode, all in the vain attempt of meeting her.

He decided that he would tell her another day, sometime when it was appropriate and where there wouldn't be casualties, "and once I know her power," he thought to himself.

"Can you speak other languages than French and Spanish?" he asked her.


Jeremy Kyle - Birmingham, England

"And where exactly are we going?" Leon asked Jeremy, sounding not just confused, but also a tad angry. Jeremy knew enough about Leon to know that his power could probably kill Jeremy, and realising that this guys was as dangerous as a caged animal made Jeremy the slightest bit nervous.

"Into the light," he replied, pointing to the only light patch in the whole building that was only several steps away from them, "I know you are not supposed to, but this time is an exception."

Jeremy waved his hands in a 'get up' motion towards Leon, "trust me, you won't die if you walk into this light," he decided to add, hoping to make Leon less agitated. Jeremy lifted his shirt to show Leon his Atlantean Tattoo, his entire bone structure of ribs were lined by the same black mark that sat over top of Leon's face, except Jeremy's detailed his rib cage on his front and stretching around his back to his spine. The tattoo stopped at the base of his neck and shoulder blades, at its pinnacle, and went no lower than the top of his pelvis. "I'm Atlantean just like you," he said before smiling at Leon, walking over to stand in the light.
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Old November 7th, 2011, 02:14 PM
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Christian Calaway- London, England

A big lady wearing a coat entered the room holding up a clipboard, squinting through her glasses that sat on the bridge of her nose, "Oaklay North?" she called out, the majority of the people looking at the woman wishing for their names to be called. "Oaklay North, Christian Calaway..." she yelled the three next names before coming finally to the last name on the list, "and Michael Cale." Christian titled his head up towards the door in which the woman entered, his name awakening from his day dream. It was a quaint dream in which he envisioned himself winning the presidential election 20 years from now running an honest campaign that swore to transform the country into a utopia for all. He grunted at the thought of having to move. He always had neglected to control his power at this time, seeing his shoulders and lower body slowly evaporating into a smokey substance. Focusing for a moment, he reassembled his body into its more solid form and rose from the ground, wiping his eyes of fatigue.

Christian was one of the last to rise up to heed the call, with a young man about his age and a younger girl beating him to the woman. They were chatting, as if they were long lost friends being reunited. They even displayed admirable linguistic skills, speaking in French. He was not sure if he should be surprised or not at the versatility of their ability to communicate, being that England and France were relatively close together, but he shrugged it off as some unimportant detail. It was eye opening to see this in Europe, being that in the United States, few people demonstrated such skill with languages, often speaking English and nothing else (if they could even speak English at all).

"Christian Calaway," He directed to the woman with the clipboard. He stood next to the reunited couple, towering over them with his arms crossed. He nodded to them with acknowledgement, trying to be polite at the very least.
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Old November 7th, 2011, 05:42 PM
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Nickolai had been waiting in the room for about half an hour, with nothing interesting happening. Some people's names had been called, but none of then had been his. He mostly just ignored all of the others in the room, although the girl stepping out of the wall was pretty hard to ignore.

One moment, she had not been there, and then the next, she was. Nickolai's mind told him that it could not be possible, but he knew better after the past few days. She simply walked out of the wall and took a quick look around the room, her eyes scanning the occupants until her eyes rested on him. She confidently strode towards the Russian and crouched next to him.

"Nikolai Afron," she said, "my name is Natalia Zaytsev and I am part of an Atlantean organization. We have been surveying you for the past few days and would be very much interested if you were to join us. I would like to explain to you more but I believe here is not the best place. Please come with me."

Then she stood up and extended her hand. Nickolai's mind raced. What? An organization? She quickly touched his hand to his iPhone, and Googled the name Natalia Zaytsev, and came up with almost nothing. Electronically speaking, this girl didn't exist. He considered his options, he could stay and reject her invitation, in which case the girl might just kidnap him or something, or he could go with her and find out what this was all about. In any case, going with her might be more interesting than staying here.

He took her hand and stood. "Alright, I'll go with you. As long as you answer my questions when we get out of here."
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Old November 7th, 2011, 07:10 PM
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Oakley North - London, England

Oakley's smile faded a little as her brain went into overdrive. Wait, she hadn't spoken any Spanish directly to this guy. How did he know she could speak it? And why did he ask specifically for the south of France? At first, she figured she had some kind of accent (did different parts of France have different accents? She didn't know) but this guy could barely put together a sentence, let alone tell the difference between a northern and southern accent. Who was this guy? Oh... oh no. This guy had been following her, that was definitely it. He has saw what had happened in her school via the security cameras and had followed her to England and had been watching her the past few days. He knew her "power", he was going to kidnap her or something and take her away from somewhere and stick her on a table and pull the plates off, one by one. As her mind raced through the possibilities, her heart rate sped up and her arm started to burn. Her left hand immediately grabbed her right forearm and she gasped a little. Oakley, Oakley, breathe! Calm down, calm down. Maybe it was all just an honest coincidence! 

She managed to slow her heart down with some long breaths, letting go of her forearm. She could feel her arm pressing against the cast; another freak out and she surely would break the cast, or at least make it crack. She had to make sure that didn't happen, though her track record wasn't so great so far. 

"How do you know I speak Spanish?" she said, putting her obviously fake smile back on. She ignored the presence of the Christian person, only noticing that he had the faintest smell of smoke lingering around him. Gross, what was he, a bum? A cleaner? Ugh.
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Last edited by Skymin; November 9th, 2011 at 12:46 AM.
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Old November 7th, 2011, 09:18 PM
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Michael Cale - London, England

With everyone called gathered around her, the lady turned with a simple "follow me," and walked through the door she had entered before. Michael began to follow her until his "sister" grasped her right forearm, letting a little gasp escape her mouth, something inside Michael pinged and he suddenly felt sorry for her, not in the way a stranger would, but in a brotherly way.

He immediately stopped and turned to her, ignoring the big guy behind them and being brushed by the other three whom had been called, "are you okay? Is it your arm causing you pain?" he asked her, he was genuinely worried about her. The lady yelled at them to hurry up, "She's injured!" he yelled back, a little agitated.

"How do you know I speak Spanish?" she asked him, faking an obvious smile but still wincing in pain.

"You were mumbling in it before, sis," he added subconsciously, only after did he realise the mistake, correcting in with 'miss', sounding like an idiot to himself. He mentally kicked himself for stuffing up. "If you're okay, we shouldn't keep her waiting" he said, edging towards the door where the others waited patiently, the woman not so patiently.
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Old November 9th, 2011, 04:00 AM
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Natalia Zaytsev - Moscow, Russia

Natalia let out a small smile when Nikolai took her hand, a gesture of acceptance before he had even opened his mouth. As he stood up, she took some mental notes, some that she couldn't have determined from the photos she was sent; he was quite tall and his eyes quite pale (most of the photos she had received either had him wearing sunglasses or were CCTV black and white photos).

"Alright, I'll go with you," he said, letting go of her hand as he stood to his full height. "As long as you answer my questions when we get out of here."

She nodded in reply and took his arm, making a swift but subtle exit for the wall she came through. She could take people through walls, the same way she could phase her clothes and small items through walls, but it took a little bit of concentration. She wasn't worried though; she had done this many an occasion. Focusing hard, she gripped tighter on Nikolai's arm and pulled him through the wall, passing through as if through air. Then they were on the other side, unnoticed though not for long. It would only be some time until they called his name and he would not be there and somebody would suspect something. Moving fast, she gestured at him to follow and led him to her car. A silver Volvo S40. Something that looked normal, not some shady looking black 4WD.

"Hop in."


Oakley North - London, England

Oh, so he heard her before. That made sense. She shouldn't be so paranoid, why couldn't she think just like a normal person? If maybe she had a little confidence in herself, maybe her armour wouldn't be so uncontrollable.

"I'm f-fine," she pulled her arm back as the topic of interest landed back at her arm. No! She could not, she would not show all these people it. If she started to freak out, she didn't know what could happen. She could hurt someone, she didn't know what would possibly happen if she lost control. But most of all, she feared what these people would think of her. It didn't matter how crazy or screwed up their abilities were, she knew she would get ridiculed or sent away somewhere if the wrong person found out. One person and a guy who could glow was enough for today. "Really, I'm fine, ok?"

She turned to the guy who smelt like smoke and looked at him briefly, trying to look at his face before he caught her eye. Christian, if she remembered correctly, was a little taller than this Michael guy. Both of them seemed to tower over her and made her feel so small (though she was a little small for her age so she always seemed to feel that way).

"Where are we going?" she asked the lady who was guiding them.
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Last edited by Skymin; January 26th, 2012 at 03:52 AM.
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Old November 10th, 2011, 10:07 AM
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Leon Nef- ???

The man pointed to the only light in the building, and spoke.

"Into the light." He said. "I know you are not supposed to, but this time is an exception."

Leon was skeptical, and for good reason. A strange man suddenly appears, and both of them are in some new area, and the man asks Leon to go to a light? Leon thought for a moment that maybe he was already dead. That he was killed in the registry building over there. Then he placed his hands on his head, feeling the pain still in it from the landing. No, he wasn't dead. The man reassured Leon once again.

"Trust me, you won't die if you walk into this light," And as he said this, he lifted up his shirt to reveal his side. It had a similar tattoo type as Leon's, although his stretched from his pelvis up to his neck, Leon's was from the side of his face to his shoulder. Still, there was no denying it. "I'm Atlantean just like you," he said, and walked over to stand in the light.

Leon looked back at the man, and stood up. He still didn't trust him, but he decided to go with him for now. Nodding, he approached the Atlantean, and the light.

"Alright." he said.
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Old November 11th, 2011, 12:05 AM
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Jeremy Kyle - Birmingham, England

Leon soon joined Jeremy standing in the light, and Jeremy though of pulling a stunt on him, saying something like, "nah, just kidding, we are dead," or some similar idea which made him smile widely. Instead, he looked up into the light, "here he is," Jeremy called out, if anything it looked like he was talking to the light, until it winked out to be replaced by a slow click as rows of lights came on inside the warehouse. It was big enough to fit a football field, and completely empty except for Jeremy, Leon and a singular man flanked by two guards that approached from a closed door. The man stood on a couple of metres in front of both Jeremy and Leon, and with a small cough, signalled to Jeremy. He was short, around five and a half feet tall, his bodyguards closer to six feet. Balding and stocky, this man seemed to fit the stereotype of "rich drug dealer" or at least someone who dealt in dodgy dealings, with influential people.

"Oh right!" he said before he jumped out of the room, a small popping sound echoing throughout the building as he left, then another couple in succession as chairs appeared out of thin air behind the man and Leon. Jeremy jumped back into the room, sitting upside down on the chair, rotating his body around as a look of disapproval crept onto the man's face.

"Hello Mr. Leon," the man drawled sounding like Agent Smith from The Matrix, "I'm glad you could have joined us here," he waved his hand around the room they stood in. "Have a seat," he gestured towards the chairs Jeremy had brought and took a seat while his guards stood flanking him on either side. Clearing his throat, he began to speak again, "I represent the Syndicate, a group of people interested in your....gifts, Leon. Though I am not a part of them, I do dealings with them, such dealings as having to... babysit... you Atlanteans."

He pulled a cigar from his coat pocket, lighting it in his mouth and blowing the thick, acrid smoke out in front of him, Jeremy coughed as he inhaled a chunk of it. "You will be payed, quite generously too for someone like you," he emphasised the last, seeming to make Leon feel insignificant, he had done this countless times to Jeremy, "teaming up with Jeremy here to do what myself or those higher up," he briefly looked at the ceiling, "wish of you."

"So what do you say... Atlantean?" adding the last word a few seconds later, almost spitting it out.


Michael Cale - London, England

"Where are we going?" Oakley asked the lady with the clipboard.

She turned and looked out through the top of her glasses, "Into the next room," she cast her eyes down at her board, "Oakley." so follow me quickly.

Michael followed the lady through the room, the others following behind him, the door closing behind them and locking once they were all through. The room they were now in was fairly small, and its only occupants were three people sitting at a lone desk; piles of paper stacked around them as they scribbled furiously. One of the lady's called with Michael gasped and whispered something to the boy beside her, both seemed surprised to be here, which made Michael wonder what they were so surprised about. It wasn't long before he found out.

The lady in the middle stood up, her long black hair falling down past her shoulders, reaching just above her stomach. She wore quite dark mascara which did nothing else but emphasise her ice blue eyes against her pale skin. A silky blue robe trailed down her body, hiding most of her features; gold patterns weaving around the edges. "Good afternoon," her voice was fluid, like all her words linked together one after the other in a constant stream, "I am River Beleren, member of the Atlantean Royal family and sole Hydrokinetic. I am here to assess each of you as a group and as individuals." She looked at each of the six standing before her, and when she looked at Michael, he had to look down; looking into her eyes pulled him in, their mysterious depths dragging him from reality. "You have been brought together because you six complement each other in abilities. Because of this, you will be teamed up into groups of three, some of you will be welcomed to attend one of our camps where you will learn to work as a group and better control your powers, whereas others will be left to their own measures; being called upon when needed, or when we can help train you."

The lady who whispered to her friend before stood forward to speak, "it is an honour to be in your presence, but how come only some of us can go to the camp?" Michael agreed with the lady, it seemed unfair that some had to learn all by themselves, whilst others got help.

"That is because, Eliza," River replied, focussing intently on the lady, "our resources are few and spread thin, those we believe we can help the quickest we can get trained and ready so we can work on those that would require more effort." She turned her attention to the rest of them, "does anybody else have any questions before we continue?"

Michael shook his head, although questions plagued his mind, none were really relevant, nor on the topic at hand. More than anything he just wanted to get going and get out of there; hopefully able to spend time with Oakley; it has been a while since they last saw each other and Michael had a lot to catch up on.
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Old November 11th, 2011, 11:01 PM
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Leon Nef- ???

Leon stood next to the man now, who looked up at the single light, and spoke.

"Here he is." He said, towards the light. Leon looked up at it, as if expecting to happen, and soon, something did occur. The light seemed to wink, and the warehouse was suddenly lit up by a row of lights. Leon looked around, a bit surprised by the size of the warehouse, which seemed to extend quite far. It was empty, aside from the man and Leon, until he saw another set of men come in from another door. There were three of them, one in the middle who was short and bald. He had the air of the man in charge. He made a small cough, which signaled the other man to do something.

"Oh right!" He said, and a second later, he was gone. Leon eyed over the new person here. The man spoke.

"Hello Leon. I'm glad you could have joined us here," he waved his hand around the room they stood in. "Have a seat," Leon looked him over and slowly sat down, still cautious, though, in case the man tried to pull anything.

"I represent the Syndicate, a group of people interested in your....gifts, Leon. Though I am not a part of them, I do dealings with them, such dealings as having to babysit you Atlanteans."

Leon observed his words carefully. He knew about Leon, and Leon assumed he also knew about his real abilities as well. This meant one thing: This Syndicate, whatever it was, has been watching him. He also seemed to have a tone with Atlanteans. Leon assumed he wasn't one of them. In any case, Leon was silent as the man explained himself.

"You will be payed, quite generously too for someone like you teaming up with Jeremy here to do what myself or those higher up," he briefly looked at the ceiling, "wish of you."

"So what do you say... Atlantean?"

Leon, chuckled a little to himself, then spoke.

"Heh...no offense, my main bald man, but I don't make it a habit to go into business with organization that I really don't know sh*t about. So, you either explain your motives, and who the hell are you some more, or I'm outta here."

Leon put up a strong front. He had to seem the part, after all. If this was an organization that was important, he can't accept it's offer based on this small explanation of it. He needed details to be a good negotiator. That was one of the first rules of business. Leon was a good arguer after, all.
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  #23    
Old November 12th, 2011, 02:03 PM
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Oakley North - London, England

"In here," wasn't much of an answer, but Oakley didn't have to ponder on the topic for too long to understand why; the lady in the next room answered her question purely with her presence. 

Oakley had no idea who this woman was, but she introduced herself as "River Beleren", and as a "Hydrokinetic". Of course, Oakley had no idea who River Beleren was, only that she was beautiful. Her gown (or was it a robe?) was a clear, ocean blue, lined with golden embroidery of the most detailed pattern. It complemented her facial features well, her dark hair and her icy blue eyes almost glowing. Oakley couldn't help but look into her eyes, trying to understand how eyes could ever get that colour. It was... Amazing. Oakley was no man in a woman's body, admiring this lady as if she was a work of art. 

Then, she mentioned something about teaming up and leaving to camps or by themselves. Oakley's eyes went to her shoes. Camps? Going off by themselves? Oakley didn't like the idea of either of those options. In a camp, she'd be surrounded by all kinds of people who could do all kinds of things. True, she'd be with 'her people', but she would never truly feel at home. Well, she didn't think she would. She only did so well at her French Academy because of its routine, its consistency. The only consistency this armour had was the consistency to continuously cause her pain and make her paranoid as hell. The camp would see her "training" herself? Where was the normalcy in that? And she wouldn't even start with all of the problems of doing it alone. 

"..ybody else have any questions before we continue?"

Oakley looked back up. Indeed, she had one. 

"Um, ex-excuse me?" Oakley slowly raised her hand, like she would in class. The beautiful lady smiled and nodded at her, a gesture to continue. "Uh, is there a way to get rid of this? Our... Ability?" She tread on the word 'ability' lightly. Abilities were like the gifts super heroes got. They saved the world with them. This was no gift. This was a painful curse. 

"Je... Je ne veux pas de cette. Elle provoque trop de chagrin et je veux juste rentrer à la maison... Home," she added under her breath.
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Old November 13th, 2011, 05:22 PM
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River Beleren - London, England

"Um, ex-excuse me?" Oakley raising her hand puzzled River, it was as if she was treating River like her teacher, and although she was flattered, River was nothing close to a teacher; that was something Thalia or Cobalt were good at, not herself. She turned her attention from Eliza towards Oakley.

"Uh, is there a way to get rid of this? Our... Ability?" Something stung River inside; it pained her to think that someone wished to get rid of something as extraordinary as what they possessed. Most people were ecstatic to have a power, even ones that were quite frankly useless, this girl wanted to get rid of it? River left her place at the table and swiftly walked over to Oakley, embracing her in a hug. "My child," she started as she pulled back. She turned and walked back to the table, this time standing in front and addressing the group entirely.

"Like the colour of your skin, your abilities are genetic, a rite, an inheritance of sorts; you cannot get rid of them nor change them. However, like your very own body, they grow and change, slowly becoming something that is amazing....an art." River demonstrated her own abilities; telekinetically controlling the water from the cups on the table and crafting them in mid-air. The became one singular body of water, then split apart into smaller droplets.

She turned her focus back to Oakley, "I'm sorry that you wish that, but perhaps we can turn that around?" River kept her shock buried deep beneath the tumultuous waves of the sea that was her emotions; expressing something closer to sorrow. "Any other questions?"


Jeremy Kyle - Birmingham, England

Jeremy watched as Leon laughed a little before he spoke, "Heh...no offense, my main bald man, but I don't make it a habit to go into business with organization that I really don't know sh*t about. So, you either explain your motives, and who the hell are you some more, or I'm outta here." Jeremy wasn't too shocked to hear Leon speak this way, he agreed with him for most if it, but Jeremy didn't really have a bone to pick with his employers.

"Come on Leon," Jeremy exclaimed, "you should join up so we can work together! It would be fu~n!"

Jeremy was stopped quickly by a sharp glare from his superior, "The Syndicate simply needs the assistance of your...expertise to help them achieve their motives. Like I said, you will be paid for the work you do, like any other job, except you have to accept the jobs they give you, no matter what conflicts of interest you have." His superior could not make it any clearer, and Jeremy knew that he knew as much as Jeremy knew, maybe a tiny bit more.
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Old November 14th, 2011, 04:11 PM
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Christian Calaway- London, England

Lead through a few corridors, the group of Atlanteans was lead into a small room with a table in the middle. Three people were sitting at the table, acting if they were waiting for them. The women stood up in the middle and prepared to speak: "Good afternoon.I am River Beleren, member of the Atlantean Royal family and sole Hydrokinetic. I am here to assess each of you as a group and as individuals.You have been brought together because you six complement each other in abilities. Because of this, you will be teamed up into groups of three, some of you will be welcomed to attend one of our camps where you will learn to work as a group and better control your powers, whereas others will be left to their own measures; being called upon when needed, or when we can help train you."

This River Belern was a beautiful woman who spoke with eloquence. She spoke clearly with the words flowing like…well a river. Christian was sliently jealous, if only because his ability to speak paled in comparison with his voice having an almost abrasive quality at times. River asked questions from Michael and later Oakley. Michael focused on the idea of the elusive camp, which bothered Christian but not for the same reasons. Oakley was hoping for a cure, which Christian was curious as to why she wanted one. River explained that it was impossible to cure it as the abilities were genetic. Christian figured until genetic engineering advanced to the level of human experimentation, Miss Oakley will simply have to deal with the abilites. River brought her attention back to the group as a whole, open to more questions.

Christian took a step forward and prepared to speak: "I got a question…your highness. I did not come here to sign up to work for the Atlantean Royal Family and to work with these people, no offense to anyone. I am sure you are all fine people," Christian said with a sincere tone. "I did not come here for training or a career opportunity. I came here to register for a ID saying "Atalantean". So tell me, princess, why the ruse? Why not tell us what we are getting in now instead of acting like every other damn politician?"
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Last edited by Raikiri; November 28th, 2011 at 06:29 AM.
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