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Old May 5th, 2014, 12:33 AM
SV's Avatar
Moshi Moshi?
Join Date: Mar 2011
Gender: Male
Nature: Relaxed

San Diego, California, United States

November 21st, 2012

Luke could see his breath fogging in front if him as the street light behind them illuminated the air leaving his mouth. He wasn't a fan of the winter months, preferring to head somewhere south during them, but business dictated that he were to be here. He eyed James over as the boy got dressed noting the familiarites between him and his father. Of course Luke had had children of his own over the years but none had resembled him quite like James resembled his own father. Maybe it was an Atlantean thing, he was unsure. What he was sure of was that she had been right about him appearing here. With her prophecies being famously obscure, he was surprise at the fact his sister had been so clear about this one.

"Mister Hazen, my name is Luke, Luke Cypher. If you want we can talk out here in the cold or in my car." He motioned over his shoulder to the motor vehicle running outside the substation, "it has heated seats after all..."

After putting on his clothes, James glanced at the man who introduced himself as Luke for only a brief second before heading toward the car behind him. For the moment, he spoke no words nor offered any objections to hitching a ride. He was silent, mostly because his thoughts were still focused on his recent experience as a part of pure energy. He was inside the car now, but he wasn't fully there yet. It would take some time to get used to being back to the way things were, if they ever really could go back.

Once inside, Mister Cypher signalled to the driver to head off from the power station while the two of them sat in the back seats. "Is there anything I can get you? Food? Drink?" Luke turned in his seat to face James.

"I'm fine," James replied softly, once again only barely gazing at the direction of Luke, glancing as well briefly at the driver, and then propping an elbow onto the side of the car, and resting his head on his closed hand. He began watching the sights as they passed by the car in a mesmerized reticence. His thoughts only briefly wandered to where he was, or more precisely where he was going.

"Well I'll cut to the chase, then. I have a business proposition of sorts for you, one where we can both benefit immensely." Luke felt a little disheartened at James' ignorance, but then again who knew if the boy was still alright after such an ordeal. "As well as offering you a place to live, I will also let you do as you see fit. Even to some extent, I can aid you in whatever endevours you wish to part-take. Does this sound good to you, Mister Hazen?" Luke bit his tongue in anticipation of James' reply.

James listened quietly to the man, keeping his eyes fixated to objects that passed by outside of the window. When Luke awaited his reply, James took a few extra seconds before giving an answer. "...sure," He finally said, taking his eyes off the road and gazing at the man, this time keeping his eyes on him. "But what's the catch?"

"It's simple. At some point in the near future I will require of you, an action to be taken at my bequest. You promise to do this one thing for me and I will give you what you want, when you want until such time as I call upon you." Luke smiled, his pearl white teeth reflecting the light making his oversized canine's appear strikingly sharper. He was sure that James now giving him his attention meant that the boy was the least bit interested in his proposition.

James continued to listen quietly, his eyes trailing across Luke's features as he did so. He was a somewhat darker man, with olive skin, perhaps from some southern European, Mediterranean descent. as well as a strong jawline and piercing brown eyes. He was direct and to the point, something James could go behind, but also mysterious and cryptic, something most people with Atlantean ties also shared. At this point, James assumed any further attempt to uncover any more information would be pointless, and he wasn't in any particular mood to try. He turned away from Luke, and continued his silent gaze back out the window. "Yeah, sure why not." He replied finally with a shrug.

"Perfect!" Luke cried gleefully, excited to have James on board. Lights now began flickering through the window as the car made it's way into the city of San Diego. "Driver, take us to the hotel," he ordered and the suited man simply nodded in agreement. Luke enjoyed the perks of being wealthy in today's world; money could get you so much further now than it could centuries back. "Mister Hazen, are you aware of where you are currently situated?"

He ignored the question, instead electing to focus on the outside of the window. They were deep in the city now. James continued to stare blankly and inattentively at his surroundings. He sighed deeply, scanning all of the sights he could at each stop the car made. There were a multitude of bars and cars, and plenty of people walking around, laughing and talking to each other. People spoke and made their way to various locations on the street, going about their Tuesday night as they would have any other Tuesday night. For some reason, seeing them, and seeing the city as it were now was giving him a sickly feeling in his stomach. Yet he couldn't turn his eyes away.

The car made a stop on a traffic light. James fixated his eyes upon a certain group of young people talking on the corner of a street, right outside a bar. They were chatting in a small semi-circle, the group being made up of about half a dozen or so people, half girls and half guys. Each one took their turn talking, and occasionally a few would talk at the same time, and then they would laugh or smile. The traffic light was red for a while, and James observed the group as the process went around again, mostly going about the same way. One person talks, another follows, then another, a few talk at once, then laughter. That was their fun. Talk, talk, talk, laughter. The safety of structured enjoyment.

The light became green, but James had had enough. He pulled the handle on the door and stepped out. The group was in the middle of laughing again, perhaps at something one of the men, who had a shaved head, a thick goatee and some glasses, had just said. James stormed toward them, and began producing his own forced laughter to go along with their. "Ha. Ha. Ha," He began, joining the semi-circle of people, who all stopped laughing and looked at James confusedly. One of the females looked a bit anxious too. "Really funny," James continued, gazing at each one of the, beginning with the goateed male. "You talk, he talks, she talks, jumbled talk, we all laugh. Ha, ha ha!" He said, pointing fingers at each one of them he referred to. The group exchanged glances with each other, some of them, trying to hold back laughter.

"Uh, what?" One of the men of the group asked, confused.

"That's what you're doing," James explained. "One talks, another talks, another, then laughter. It's always the same..."

The man with the shaved head and the goatee began to chuckle and force the others away from James. Slowly each one of them began to follow him as they dispersed and walked away. "Haha, ok bro. Take it easy on the Coors. Have a good night."

"I plan to," James called back out to the group. "Wanna help me?" He shouted to the man as he walked further away. The man turned back and looked at James.


James grinned at the man. "I'm gonna play a game. You, run the f*ck away, and I try to see how far I can shoot you." The man's expression instantly went from one of confusion to anger.

"What the f*ck did you just say to me?!" The man called back, stepping forward toward James. One of the other men with him pulled him back, as well as one of the girls as well. "Hey, just let it go, Ryan, he's f*cking insane." The man continued to push forward, despite the resistance that was met by his friends. "You've got a f*cking problem." The first man yelled back at James.

James lifted his hand. The crackling of sparks began to fly around it. The group instantly stopped in their tracks, including the goateed man. He widened his eyes. A few more sparks flew across James' hand, followed by a dozen more. Soon, the loud, sweet, familiar sound of crackling penetrated his ears, and the bright, rapid, chaotic lightning was present in his hand. The group instantly began to back away and turn to run. James pointed the lightning in his hand toward the group.

"Talk." He said, firing his first bolt, which shot through the air and hit the male with the goatee straight between the shoulderblades. He screamed in pain, sliding to the ground and hitting it with a thud. He was as still as a rock, with a black, burn mark on his back and smoke slowing rising from the wound. "Talk," James said again, firing another round at another one of the males. Again, he was hit on the back, and after releasing a loud yell of horror and pain, he too fell to the ground. "Talk," He said once more, and synchronized it with another release of a lightning bolt, this time toward the head of one of the females. She made not scream upon impact, but was crying and yelling the entire time before she was hit. She then collapsed on the floor.

"And then what? Oh yeah," James began to laugh softly to himself, firing off another set of lightning bolts, now on whoever he saw in his sights, as all of them ran and screamed away from him. Now, this is fun.

Luke smiled a wide smile as he watched James wreck havoc on the populous. James was utterly bat sh*t crazy, a loose cannon but one he would be able to direct. This was definitely the horse he wanted to back in the coming days. In the distance he could hear the wailing of sirens as no doubt the police and medics had been called. As much as he was annoyed at them being on their way, it would definitely make things more interesting if they even tried to subdue James.

Stepping out of the car, Luke motioned to James, "Take this," he threw James a black cellphone, the edges of it rimmed with rubber. "It's a rubber insulated cellphone that should withstand your electrical prowess to a degree. When you feel like coming home, give Mitchell here a ring and he'll procure you and bring you home."

James caught the phone, looking between it, the driver, and Luke, before nodding in agreement. Luke stepped back into the car, moving over to shut James' door as well. The boy had just spent nine days as pure energy, he had no qualms about him galivanting around town getting use to his human body again. When Luke had first learnt to master his own ability, he spent hours everyday utilising it in whatever ways possible. "Let's return, Mitchell, I have some business to attend to in the mean time." With a wave from Luke, Mitchell simply nodded before putting his foot down and speeding away.

Paired with the Epic Raikiri
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Old May 10th, 2014, 05:51 PM
revlis's Avatar
The Sentinel
Community Supporter
Join Date: Sep 2009
Location: Syndicate HQ
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Nature: Modest

Denver, Colorado, United States

November 21st, 2012

“Vic, watch out!” Gamer yelled from across the street as the building began tumbling down over top of him.

Facing his palms towards the building, Vic pushed himself backwards as his ability flickered into action. It was a bit uneven, causing Vic to be pushed on an angle, but it got him out of the dangerous scenario nonetheless. He still wasn’t used to the feel of using his ability against himself, but he was quickly grasping a hold of what he could and couldn’t do. At first they had believe it was some sort of telekinesis, but Vic couldn’t control the movement of any objects and pushed them in a direction instead. On closer inspection it was soon revealed that Vic manipulated the push force from himself or other objects. When he had begun training, all he seemed to do was push objects away from himself, yet as the days wore on he soon learned that he could push himself away from objects as well.

Looking around, he spotted a lady trapped in a car. Rubble and bricks piled up around her doors while a telephone pole lay across her bonnet. Breathing in, Vic then thrust his hands out as he breathed out, forcing his ability to blow the top layer of rubble. It took four more pushes, but eventually enough was clear to be able to rescue the lady. Racing over to the car, he yanked on the door handle as hard as possible, pulling it open from its jammed position. Crawling into through the passenger’s seat, he quickly felt her weak pulse around her neck before carefully pulling her out from inside the car. With her unconscious in her arms, he started running away from the others and around to behind a building where ATLAS had set up a medical area. Head down and holding her close to his body, Vic willed himself to continue his effort as sweat continued to pour down his forehead. Dust caked his clothes as he had already been in and out of several destroyed shops rescuing civilians while the others tried to subdue the rogue Atlantean.

“All heat signatures are clear,” the striking woman known as Amanda Tell noted to the others. She released the button on the earphone and watched Vic deposit the body of the woman on a stretcher manned by two medics. “Nice work, Victory.” She commended him through a stern face. She continued to watch the others battle it out with an Atlantean in the streets.

Having only nine days of training, Vic wasn’t allowed to be out in the field fighting with the others, and had to support them by rescuing and clearing civilians. He didn’t mind the job, after all someone had to do it, but when he was finished all he could do was stand and watch the others take down the rogue Atlantean.

From this distance Vic could see Gamer and Harpy both floating in the air; Gamer held aloft by a pair of wings made from what looked like 8-bit streams of data while Harpy’s wings were ragged and torn making Vic wonder just how she managed to keep herself aloft. The two seemed to be darting around a man in his late-twenties, piles of rubble, bricks and masonry scattered around his feet. The two kept a safe distance from the man as he seemed to pick up the rubble using his mind and toss them at the girls as solid projectiles. He could vaguely see his hands wave around, the bricks and masonry at his feet seemingly controlled via invisible strings from his hands before being thrown at the girls. Harpy let out a scream before barrelling towards the man; her claws glinting in the moonlight. Her advance was stopped, causing her to pull upwards when a brick wall hurriedly built itself between her and the rogue Atlantean. Gamer then used this distraction to send a volley of 8-bit data towards the man, only for him to duck behind the wall once Harpy had pulled up. As her volley struck the wall, it crumpled before the bricks all started rushing towards her.

“Let me go, I can help them!” He begged with Amanda who continued to stare intensely at the battle.

“No, you’re too weak.” He waved him off to bring her binoculars up to her eyes.

Looking behind him, Vic could see that the other human agents were either busy caring for the injured or working on keeping the public away from the area. Frustrated with nothing to do, Vic decided to act of his own free will. No doubt Amanda would reprimand him at the end of the day but he couldn’t handle not doing anything. Edging away from Amanda, he moved to a clear space where he could practice his ability. In theory he could be in the air like Harpy and Gamer; he just needed to focus on pushing himself off of the ground. Crouching down, he placed his hands firmly on the cool ground. Closing his eyes, he tried focussing on the connection between his palms and the ground, imagining a growing space as his ability repelled him upwards and off the ground. He felt it succeed and was about to cheer when only his arms were pushed up, causing him to fall backwards and his shoulders to ache in pain.

Steadying himself again, he tried with his shoulders and elbows locked slightly bent. Instead of closing his eyes, he watched as firstly his hands rose off the ground followed by a strange tugging sensation pulling his upper body skywards. Willing himself harder, Vic eventually got his legs off of the ground; floating a meter above it. Ecstatic with the progress he made, Vic grew more confident and tried pushing himself higher in the air. Behind him he could hear the gasps and cries of surprise as spectators watched him begin to float. Now he tried moving back and forth, side to side and down to get the hang of movement in the air. It started out as moving a few inches, but the more he moved the more natural and fluid it became. With sweat now beading down his head, Vic decided that he was ready to enter battle.

Surging forward while floating in mid-air, Vic made his way out from behind the building and into the street where the others were fighting. Up ahead was his first target; the masonry manipulator. Both Gamer and Harpy had their backs to him looking for an opening that the man refused to give. “Guys, I can help!” He yelled out to the others.

“Victory, get back!” Gamer yelled as she turned around, her eyes fierce.

He stopped when she was knocked back, Harpy’s body colliding with Gamer’s as she shielded her from a volley of masonry. Vic felt a pang of regret for distracting her and decided to fix it up.

“Oh, so you’re the cavalry, huh?” The man laughed maniacally as he launched another volley of bricks at the floating Vic.

Surging forward at a faster pace, Vic dodged the projectiles as he skirted around the outside of the man. It was now that he realised just how tough the girls had it against this man. With the amount of rubble at his disposal much less the stuff scattered around him, he had more than enough projectiles and building material to keep the fight going for at least another hour. He kept moving until the guy had turned his back on the other two, focusing solely on Vic flying in the air.

“Hey, d*ckhead,” Vic taunted, watching the man’s face contort in anger at the name calling, “beating up girls because you can’t fight a real man?”

“I will beat you like those girls, punk!” The man yelled back, summoning bricks and rubble around them to him.

Vic could only sit and watch as the man roared, bricks flying to him from left, right and centre. They attached to his body like they were magnetised, and soon he went from and individual shy of six foot to an eight foot tall goliath of rubble. Bricks jutted out like spikes and massive finders the size of Vic’s legs curled into fists. It was a monster with the head of a man and looked nothing like the guy he had taunted before. The animalistic roar that he echoed sent sparks flying up Vic’s spine has he felt the same fear he had before when the bullies came down the hall.

A giant hand came sweeping through the air at Vic, causing him to pull his arms up to defend himself. The motion worked as the bricks flew apart causing the hand to burst apart up to the wrist but it also sent Vic flying backwards through a broken glass window and into a dust filled living room. His vision blurred and his back now ached from top to bottom. Amanda had been right, he wasn’t ready for combat and he was going to get himself and the others killed because of it. He almost expected to see a giant fist and arm make its way through the same window he had come through. However, once his vision had cleared he wondered just why the man hadn’t taken the opportunity to finish him off.

Crawling to hide under the window sill, Vic carefully looked over the bottom of the window to see what was stalling the man. His little confrontation with the man had given the girls enough time to recover and both were now laying siege, tearing his goliath brick suit apart. Scrambling to his feet, Vic made for the front door, busting through it into the hallway and down two flights of stairs. Once outside he made his way from cover to cover until he managed to make it back to the brick guy. With the other two flying overhead decimating him from above, Vic took the initiative to hit where the girls couldn’t reach.

Taking his chance when the rogue Atlantean turned around; Vic sprinted forward until he was dodging between the guy’s massive legs. Vic focussed on his hands; he had one shot to do this and needed the biggest push he could muster. Once his right foot landed, Vic released all the pent up energy he had left. Thrusting his arms wide, Vic fired one hand at each leg, feeling the push back on his own arms which was only a fraction of the push he was pushing out now. When his coalesced brick legs flew apart into a thousand pieces, Vic moved his arms from his side to behind him effectively propelling himself out from under the crumbling mass of brick. With the man crumbling to the ground, Gamer took the opportunity to soar in through the falling debris, catching the man around the neck and pulling him high into the air where his rubble could not reach.

“Enjoy prison, d*ckhead,” Harpy smirked as she used her ratty wings to put a little bit of extra force into her punch; knocking the guy out cold.

When they landed on the ground, Amanda came rushing over with two lackeys following; one holding a pair of large red glove like cuffs. Vic watched as Harpy and Gamer instinctively backed away as the man with the gloves came near, aggressively sliding them over top of the rogue Atlantean’s hands. With him secure the other lackey bent down as the two lifted the man up, supporting all his dead weight between their shoulders before carting him off.

“What are those?” Vic asked cautiously. Even without the girls’ reactions, he felt within the fibres of his body that those cuffs were bad news.

“They’re Dead Cuffs, scrub. It stops your ability from working.” Gamer berated him like she always did for not knowing things.

Harpy, now back to her more human looking form stepped up next to Vic, “They’re made from a blood-red crystal that most call ‘anti-atlantite’. Unlike Atlantite which helps to filter and control your ability, this stuff acts like Kryptonite and strips anyone of their ability. You get close enough to that stuff, you’ll be as weak as a human.” She folded her arms across her chest as the three of them watched the man being carted off and loaded in a truck.

“Victory,” Amanda’s harsh voice now directed straight at him as she made a beeline towards the three of them standing there.

“You’re in trouble, scrub.” Gamer and Harpy both backed away leaving Vic in the spotlight.

“That was completely reckless. You did not have clearance to engage the enemy. WE run an operation which means that everyone does their part and does NOT interfere.” Amanda remained calm and collected while she berated Vic, not even furrowing her brow, yet her words stung Vic like a hundred bees. “We will resume this back at headquarters,” She looked past Vic as if he wasn’t there anymore, “where are Tank and the other rogue?”

“They should be on their way…. now.” Gamer smirked triumphantly while the others cringed as two figures fell from the sky, crashing into the side of a building behind them. Dust and rubble flew up around them.
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Old May 31st, 2014, 04:09 PM
revlis's Avatar
The Sentinel
Community Supporter
Join Date: Sep 2009
Location: Syndicate HQ
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Nature: Modest

Syndicate HQ, Birmingham, England

November 21st, 2012

Dropping his assault rifle on the table, Wyatt made an immediate beeline for the couch and promptly slumped onto the soft cushions. They had spent the entire day staking out and hitting branches of Waite Pharmaceuticals that everyone was on the brink of collapsing in exhaustion. They had found out little more than they already knew and still had many more to hit. However on the way home the Directive had told them all that things would be a lot harder; the company now knew they were being targeted and would take preventative measures.

Wyatt opened his eyes, watching the others all lounging gratefully in whatever comfy furniture they could. Jeremy had done the most work out of the all, collapsed with head tilted back and mouth agape on the armchair. On the other sofa Fletcher was curled up in a little ball; his eyes closed and his breathing soft and shallow. Next to him Pyrrha and Daemon leaned against each other, Daemon’s head on Pyrrha’s shoulder with her head on top of his. October and Adrian had already passed through the room and headed to their bedroom while Seamus, the last to enter, collapsed onto the rug lying between the two couches with a mighty thump. Rolling from his side onto his back, he stretched his arms and legs out to their fullest extent before shifting to click several joints.

“I’m completely shattered, like more than usual!” Seamus exclaimed from the ground. Those still awake were so exhausted they could do nothing but laugh at the Irish boy; his accent sending them into fits of giggles.

“I’m completely shattered,” Jeremy mocked from the arm chair in his bad impersonation of an Irish accent, “diddly-dee potatoes” he said before hyperventilating in laughter, causing the others to spiral yet again into a fit of laughter.

“Ooh, look at me, my name is Wyatt, I can see through skirts!” Seamus mocked Wyatt who had tears of laughter streaming down my face “I carry a gun because my d*ck is so small!”

Wyatt tried to stop himself laughing but only coming up with coughing laughs. “I’m October, my milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard!” Wyatt began a masturbation motion with his right hand before making his entire arm spasm in mock of her ability.

“I am Jeremy,” Daemon started in his stunted English, “I fart when teleport.” No one could hold their composure at a fart joke; even Fletcher whom had been resting his eyes now shook with giggles.

Their laughing session carried on for another couple of minutes before Jeremy pushed himself out of the armchair and made a beeline for Fletcher. “it’s bed time,” he said before picking Fletcher up and disappearing with his signature ‘pop’. Daemon launched into another round of giggles as he remembered his fart joke from earlier.

“I’m off too guys,” Wyatt pushed himself off the couch before offering his hand for Seamus to take. With a hefty tug backwards, Wyatt helped the Irish boy to his feet as the two of them followed Jeremy’s idea of heading to bed.

“I’ll join you,” Seamus spoke as both himself and Wyatt leant hands to Daemon and Pyrrha respectively to help them off the couch. All four shuffled off to their rooms, whispering a round of ‘goodnights’ before shutting the doors to their rooms.

Wyatt now glad to be back in his own little section of paradise, promptly fell onto his bed fully clothed after saying goodnight. Lying on his stomach, he wrapped his arm around the pillows at the head of his bed, drawing them closer before nuzzling into them. Ignoring the fact that he still had his Syndicate-issue uniform on, Wyatt closed his eyes and gave into the gently embrace. As the folds of sleep washed over him, he felt a sudden tugging in his stomach like someone was pulling on a cord attached to his midriff. Giving into the sensation, he let himself be dragged down into the deeper facets of sleep.

When Wyatt awoke, all his senses tingled as he felt strangely out of place. The soft mattress of his bed had been replaced by something bumpy and fleshy and his head felt extremely heavy. Opening his eyes, he promptly pushed himself off of the piled of dead bodies he had been sleeping on. Frantically wiping at his clothes, Wyatt tried to remove any traces of the bodies from his own but soon noticed that there was nothing on his clothes. Instead of the Syndicate-issue uniform he had fallen asleep in, he was wearing jeans, a sweatshirt and boots.

Looking up from his clothes he couldn’t help but cringle at the rather large pile of dead bodies that looked like they had all been simply dumped on top of each other. Some wore strange, ethnic clothes while others wore clothes that dated back in time. He could swear beneath the pile of bodies there was a steel gauntlet glintering in the dull light. What puzzled him more was that many of the bodies looked like they had come from different times, yet all were still fully clothed and looked like they had been freshly killed. But even they looked washed and grey in the dull light while his skin and clothing seemed bolder; standing out against it. He couldn’t even smell anything in the air to suggest these bodies were even partway rotting.

Finally settling down enough, he tried looking up in what he thought was the sky but it was like a giant grey fog enveloped the whole scene. Looking around him in every direction was the same creepy fog, but what made it even creepier was that out of the corner of his eyes he swore he could see things moving in the fog. People, animals, cars, planes, yet every time he turned to focus on it the pictures shifted to the still grey fog. Breathing in deeply, Wyatt tried accessing his ability like he had learnt over the past month, willing his eyes to switch vision, but it was to no avail. In this weird dream world he was alone, powerless and scared.

Turning away from the bodies he tried walking into the fog, but it was so thick that it seemed like he was trying to walk through a wall of curtains. Yet still he pressed on, putting one foot in front of the other and both pushing and willing himself forward until the fog began to part. Excited, he could feel the heaviness began to lift from around his body and he pushed forward expecting to break the fog into someplace else. Instead, he arrived in the same spot where he had awoken, looking at the dead lifeless eyes of those people. It seemed like the dream was preventing him from escaping this one scene.

Something soon caught his eye. The pile of bodies was large and vast, but every so often a body had a strange tattoo revealed. At his feet and 80’s dressed man had the tattoo design clearly on the side of his face while another girl wearing a Chinese cheongsam had the design tattooed on the side of her thigh. Another girl dressed punk-like showed similar markings peering out from the bottom of her sleeve while a dark-skinned man had his on his right side chest. Not wanting to touch the bodies, he could see that many more shared similar markings and wondered if they had all been a part of some era-spanning cult.

His gaze soon drifted over another couple of bodied before stopping on one that didn’t quite fit. Her blonde hair was splayed outwards as her pale skin and colour rich clothing stood out against the rest. Taking in a deep breath, Wyatt felt his heart skip a beat as he stood frozen, rooted to the spot. It had been years since he had last seen that childish face and all the baby fat had long since left. He was on the brink of tears knowing that she was here, and he hoped that she wasn’t dead like the rest.

Wyatt raced over to her, grabbing her shoulders and gently shaking her, “Oakley,” he cried out her name, “Oakley! Please don’t be dead!” he pleaded as he shook her. Every possible scenario was now racing through his head as his heart felt like it was slowly shredding into pieces in his chest. Tears that had been brimming at the sides of his eyes now began flowing down his cheeks and evaporating before they hit her shirt.

“Oakley!” He cried out once more.

“She’s alive,” a soft, child-like giggle erupted from behind him, causing Wyatt to turn to the small figure. She looked to be up to his elbow height and maybe a couple years older than Fletcher. She wore a toga-like dress with embroidered patterns that he had never seen before; looking like she stepped out of some alternative Classical Roman-esque movie.

“What are we doing here? Where are we? Who are you?” Wyatt had a hundred questions racing through his mind as he stood back up, turning his back to the unconscious Oakley figure. “Why is she like this?”

“I will tell you when everyone wakes up, silly,” She giggled again, it now sounding creepy. “As for Oakley, she just needs to fall asleep is all.”

“What do you mean, she is already asleep!” Wyatt’s heart was racing a thousand miles a second; he hated feeling like he was out of the blue, like he knew nothing at all. It was the first time in years he had seen his kid sister and now she was unconscious on a pile of bodies.

“When she falls asleep, she’ll wake up here.” The girl reiterated waving her hand at the pile of bodies. Looking around he noticed six other bodies flushed with colour that stood out against the grey palate of this world.

“Who are they? Who are you?” Wyatt asked again, his heart still thumping in his chest albeit at a slower pace. Looking to each of the other six faces, Wyatt recognised the dark skinned girl he had called ‘Skrillex’ back on the boat where Jeremy had been kidnapped. Aside from her and Oakley, none of the other faces registered as him ever making contact with them.

“They are the World Changers, and I am Selephial. But most call me the Oracle, Wyatt.” Her childish tone made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Sure he had called out Oakley’s name, but how the hell did she know his own. He was about to ask another question when this child ‘Oracle’ brought her finger to her lips, hushing Wyatt. He turned around to see the others begin to stir, “They’re asleep,” she whispered before giggling.

Excited, Wyatt turned around to crouch down in front of Oakley. With tears of joy brimming in his eyes, he waited for her to stir so that he could reunite with her at last.
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Old June 2nd, 2014, 01:53 AM
SV's Avatar
Moshi Moshi?
Join Date: Mar 2011
Gender: Male
Nature: Relaxed

San Diego, California, United States

November 21st, 2012

Warning: Post contains some stuff, watch out now

James could hear the police sirens in the distance. They weren't too close yet, which gave James a chance to think about what he wanted to do next. Every action he would take now, no matter how big or small, would be fueled by his desire. He was pure id, with no ties or loyalties that he would outright pledge to. And he wouldn't follow anyone. So each decision on how to act moving forward was based on what he wanted. Currently, as much as he'd like shooting up some police officers, he preferred not to get shot at. At least, not there. As frantic people dispersed in all directions from the him, James elected to run as well. He turned the corner, siphoning power from nearby lamps as he passed under them, and disappeared into an alley, running through and appearing out the other end. He kept running through smaller streets, stopping after a while to catch his breath.

He was now in a more residential area a few blocks away from the main streets. The police sirens were still faint in the distance, but he figured he was away from immediate danger for now. James began to once again casually walk across the streets, as if nothing were amiss. To his right, he could see the shining downtown of San Diego. If he walked along the current street he was on, he probably would be able to get out of the residential district and to the center of the city in less than twenty minutes. He wanted an audience. The police would eventually find him there. That was what he wanted. So there was were he went.

James had a plain, strangely calm demeanor as he strutted the relatively empty streets along the way. One look at him wouldn't give anyone any reason to suspect him as an Atlantean with superpowers. Or a vicious murderer. Or a deranged psychopath, as many would put it. He walked across road to the other side, occasionally glancing left and right at the houses around. Many of them were dark, the owners either out or were asleep. They lined up, side by side, their grass neatly cut, their cars nicely washed, and their roads tidely swept. They were uniform, proper, ordinary. They were perfect in every contemporary, expected, societal way, and that was why James hated them.

Along the road, a light in the living room of one of the houses still remained lit. James couldn't bare it anymore. He approached the place, clenching his fists. The lights across the street each began to flicker, turn off, and then explode as he drew as much energy as he could from them. The dimly light street was now dark as all of the lights nearby were out. James stood in front of the door, peering into the lit house from the window. The TV was on, loudly, and a few people were gathered in front of it on the couch. James stuck his hand forward, and concentrated. In his mind, he could feel the energy that flowed through the house. There was the television, the lights plugged in downstairs, the different devices plugged into the outlets, the alarm system. James had sucked in air, letting the electricity pass from the houses into his hand as he rang the doorbell.

"Really? At this hour?" James could hear a man grumble from the open window. He heard footsteps moving to the front door, before he opened up the door to greet James. "Yeah, what do yo-"

The man was suddenly propelled back, being hit directly in the chest by the volts James was gathering up from their house. He felt the aftershock tingle in his arm after the hit, immediately followed by the screaming of two females from the left next to the TV. James entered the house, and viewed the family to the left. The man who was shot by the bolt was lying dead to his right, while an older woman stood in front of two children, one younger girl in her early teens, and a boy probably no older than five. "Please, please! Take anything you want, just don't hurt my children!" The older woman implored to James. James merely scoffed, lifting up his other hand and blasting the woman away. The girl screamed, streams of tears beginning to pour down her face. The younger boy merely looked on with wide eyes in utter shock. He sat crouched in the corner of the house frozen in place.

James' eyes went from the woman on the ground to the two remaining children in front of him. He placed his hands on his hips casually and thought for a moment. The two terrified children looked on at him, with the girl taking occasional glances toward her mother and father. "You know..." he began, taking his hands of his hips and letting them drag to his sides. "...they say even the crazies don't hurt the children. Because after all, it's the children!" He exclaimed. James turned his back to them, and walked a few steps forward, before stopping. "But...I'm not them." James quickly turned around and fired two precision bolts directly at the children, leaving the entire family lying dead on the ground. He looked around, satisfied with his work, before proceeding to fire bolts of lightning all across the various objects in the living room. The TV, the couch, the walls, portraits and other devices. All faced his wrath. Then, when he believed he was satisfied with his work, he prepared to leave the home.

That's when he heard the sound of a baby upstairs. James turned back around into the house. He walked toward the stairs, and proceeded to climb them, before he heard a small voice emerge from the man he had first shot when he entered the house. "Please....please don't," He implored James. James turned back to the man, walking up to him, and kneeling over him, balancing himself on the balls of his feet while his arms hung over his knees. "Please, I'm begging you...he's just a baby. Please,"

"Sorry, man. You all have to go today," James replied casually.

"Please don't do this, please.Why? Why? Why are you...why are you doing this?"

James sighed, lifting up his hand to the man's face, as electricty charged in his palm. "I've seen what man is, and I've seen what I can become." He released the bolt directly at the man's skull, this time without a doubt killing him. "The world has no need for you." James stood up, continuing to hear the sounds of a baby crying. He proceeded up the stairs.

He exited the house a few minutes later, and headed down the street toward downtown. As he got closer, he noticed the return of sirens and the increase of police activity. By the time he began reaching the big streets under the large buildings of downtown, James quickly began inhaling as much energy as he could muster, and quickly firing it at anyone and anything in his vision. He fired upon cars, street signs, people, and police officers. All the while, he tried to see the extent of his ability, how much energy he could take in at once, how much he could fire before becoming drained, and how much it took for a killing blow. The longer he remained outside on the streets, the more he learned about his ability. Consequently the longer he remained outside, the more and more he realized police began appearing out of every available street. He began to go on the move, avoiding the bulk of them while firing everything he could to slow them down. Firing at their cars momentarily fried the vehicle's frequencies to prevent them from navigating forward correctly. Firing forward at the drivers ensured them to slow down and clog up the streets, allowing for James to maneuver easier, while slipping past the officers.

The he suddenly felt a sharp pain originating from the back of his shoulder. He grunted and cried out, turning to see another officer with his gun raised. James quickly retaliated with his other arm, before clutching his injured arm, and running down another small street. He heard more raised sirens and raised voices. James sprinted down the alley into an opening leading to the back of a building. He paused for a moment to examine his injury, with blood present on his free hand, confirming to him that he had been shot at the shoulder. He shook his head and chuckled to himself, feeling the adrenaline pump through him as he tried to make it up a ladder he spotted onto the roof of an adjacent building. As he made it to the top, he ran to the side of the building, and looked down at the path from which he came, seeing the destruction that was left along the way. James smiled to himself. "Yeah, that's enough fun for the night." He reached into his pocket, taking out the cell phone given to him earlier, and dialed the number inputted, before collapsing on the roof.


Paired with the Epic Raikiri

Last edited by SV; June 2nd, 2014 at 02:03 AM.
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Old June 3rd, 2014, 02:52 PM
Skymin's Avatar
the Knight
Join Date: Sep 2006
Location: london
Age: 21
Nature: Quirky


November 21st, 2012
As soon as Oakley felt herself drift off to sleep, her eyes seemed to flicker open, though what she saw in front of her was definitely not what she had expected. She had fallen asleep on the plane on the way back from Paris after a rather tiring day of moving bits of cement around and trying to find any survivors who had managed to stay alive after all this time. They hadn't found much in the way of people (Devon had claimed to see some severed arms, though the thought of it made Oakley feel sick to the stomach).

The last thing she remembered as she closed her eyes was the hum of the plane and the other AUP members seated around her, either talking or going to sleep themselves. That was not what met her as she seemed to wake up again. Instead a familiar-looking face stared back at her -- one she had not seen for some time, yet couldn't put her tongue to his name. Who did he look like? Was it her father? She couldn't think straight right now, but she knew if she waited a moment, her brain would catch up to her eyes.

"Where am I?" She murmured quietly, blinking the grogginess out of her eyes and looked to her hands instinctively to help herself up. She pushed up, though what her hand came in contact with woke her up far quicker than a familiar face. Her hand felt the slimy texture of an arm, lacking the warmth of one that belonged to someone who was alive. She yelped and screamed, kicking the bodies underneath her and scrambling backwards quickly to get onto her feet. Why were there so many bodies?

"Wh-Where am I?!" She looked around her, her eyes only meeting more lifeless bodies. She turned back to the familiar boy. "Who a-a-are you?! Stay back!" She flicked her right arm out, expecting the armour to encase it to protect her. However, the strange feeling of the armour growing didn't follow, and she stopped and turned to her arm, frowning at it. She flicked it twice, three times, expecting at least her surprise to trigger the growth, but nothing happened. "What's going on?!"

"Oakley, calm down! It's me, Wyatt." He grabbed her by the shoulders, trying to keep eye contact with her in an effort to calm her. “Last I remember was falling asleep, why are you even here?” he glanced around at the others as they all stirred to life before returning to look at Oakley.

Wyatt? She hadn’t seen him in what felt like forever. But this man wasn’t the round face of the brother she remembered. “Let go of me!” She stepped back, flicking her right arm, then her left. Why wasn’t it happening? When she hated the armour, it enveloped her. When she wanted it, it refused her call. What was going on? Her breathing began to increase rapidly and she took another step back, tripping on a body part and falling back onto her bottom. She looked at this ‘Wyatt’, frowning, shaking her head and uttering “no” a few times. Was that familiar face from the boat somehow haunting her? “This is some kind of s-s-sick dream.”

Listening to her anguish pained Wyatt, he let go of her shoulders as she had asked and folded his arms across his chest. He had been expecting her to be just as excited as he was about meeting once again since their departure, but then again she had been young and probably knew less of him than he did of her. He flinched as she fell backwards onto the pile of bodies, almost wanting to lean down and give her a hand up. Then he remembered how she had yelled at him to let go of her and tightened his arms across his chest. “You got that right, just don’t look behind you.” As estranged from her as he was, he still felt overprotective of her. He glanced down at her arm, seeing the black ink ingrained on the inside of it. Instinctively he reached up and rubbed the mark that had appeared on the back of his neck; either she was more brave than he knew her to be, or she was Atlantean. “I didn’t do this, did you?” he waved to the scene that enveloped them.

Oakley could not hear the words that Wyatt spoke, her hands trembling and she felt suddenly nauseous, but not because she was sitting in a pile of bodies. She recognised these signs anywhere, and it was something she thought that she had left behind long ago. Panic attacks were something that had frequently surrounded her at the time when her brother left and her mother’s funeral. Why were they back? Did she really believe this was Wyatt? Or was it just an awful dream that she was having a hard time waking up from.

“Why,” she wheezed, her voice barely above a whisper, her head throbbing from the crying she hadn’t noticed yet, “why is this happening?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered under his breath. It had something to do with Atlantean since Skrillex behind them had displayed Atlantean abilities before and no doubt the others lying there had their own powers. But he didn’t know, it was the same bothersome feeling like the universe was just trying to leave him out of everything. “I don’t know, Oakley,” he reiterated louder, “but we’ll figure this out; it’ll all be okay…”

“It’s not okay!” She scrambled to her feet, running at Wyatt with her arms out ready to push him to the ground. Instead of shoving him, she passed through him, taking her by surprise as she fell back down to the ground and slid down a mound, falling onto her back. She picked herself back up, looking back at Wyatt with her bloodshot eyes. “Why did you leave? Why d-d-did you leave me and Dad? And Mum?!” She was furious, staring at him with piercing eyes.

Wyatt winced as Oakley phased through him like he wasn’t there. “I didn’t have a choice!” He turned around and yelled back at her, surprised as his own anger. He hadn’t been angry beforehand but the way she spoke to him like he was the bad guy cut him deep making him lash out at her with his words. All that rage that he had pent up over the years because of his father’s decision now bubbled to the surface like thick tar. “Dad sent me away and he was the reason she died. Don’t you dare blame me for the actions of that selfish *sshole!”

“The reason! She d-died in Madrid! In a terrorist b-bombing, and it’s his fault?” She bit her finger, flashes of her mother’s funeral appearing before her eyes, her head throbbing more under the pressure of her emotions. She wanted even more than ever right now for her armour to appear and just encase her, hiding her from what she wasn’t prepared to face and protecting her from whatever wounds that her brother had just tore open. “Where were you?

“Where was I? I was in the middle of f*cking England with NO way of getting home. He left me alone and excluded me from the funeral. I did all that I could but he cut me off, he left me there feeling like absolute sh*t.” Wyatt was proper fuming now, his breath heavy and shallow. “From the start it was always about Oakley! ‘Wyatt take care of Oakley.’ ‘Wyatt don’t be mean to Oakley.’” He mocked his parent’s voices in a patronising tone. “I was nothing to him because he had his little girl and that was all that he ever wanted. You think you had it bad? You didn’t see sh*t! Where were you when he stumbled off the plane drunk? Where were you when he blamed and pitied himself for mum’s death?” Wyatt couldn’t believe the words now coming from his mouth but they just seemed to flow up from the pit of his stomach.

“I was there! Right next to him at the funeral! And I was right beside him until I had to go back to school.” She gasped for breath as the air around her seemed harder and harder to swallow. “I visited him every C-Christmas and you didn’t… you never came back! I even brought you pr--” she gasped again, drifting off on the last word. She took another deep breath and continued, her voice growing louder. “ You never showed your face! You didn’t even h-h-have the f*cking,” the cuss felt harsh and foreign as it escaped her lips, “decency to call. To call me.” She hung her head for a moment, lowering her voice. “Do you even know where Dad lives now?”

Wyatt was paralysed; his sisters words stung like venom. The little girl he remembered chasing around the yard playing cops and robbers was now throwing swear words at him; it just didn’t feel right. As much as he blamed their father for everything wrong happening, she blamed him. He never realised before just how much she had been affected. He felt bad, worse than that, he felt horrible for having said much less thought such things. His heart sunk to his stomach as all the anger washed from his body to be replaced with remorse. In his whole attempt to distance himself and punish his father, he hadn’t realised he was doing the same to Oakley.

Wyatt cocked his head to the side at the mention of their father in Oakley’s question, “Somewhere in London.” He wasn’t even sure that was where his father lived, but it was where the letters he had burned before opening had come from. He had left their father alone in Heathrow before returning to school; as far as Wyatt was concerned his father had been dead for this last decade.

“Y-yeah.” She sniffed, breath quavering. “So. Where were you?”

“Nowhere important. I’m…” Wyatt faltered, he couldn’t fathom the words to follow they just all stuck in his throat like glue. “I’m sorry.” he finally coughed up.

Oakley went silent, looking away. She had nothing left to say to him. Wyatt too let the silence fall between them. Inside he was a raging turmoil that he slowly bottled away. The rest of the others didn’t need to see their dysfunctional relationship with one another and this wasn’t really the place for them to be having this argument. Looking over Oakley’s shoulder he could see the dark-skinned girl from back on the boat, the one he had bumped into while rescuing the Atlantean kids.

"Oi, Skrillex," he called out, "where are we?"

Last edited by Skymin; June 4th, 2014 at 02:53 AM.
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Old June 3rd, 2014, 11:30 PM
Retro Bug
the apex predator
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November 21st, 2012

Something had happened after Delta fell asleep, when she opened her eyes and the next thing she was greeted by was not the same satisfying dreams she had gotten used to the past few nights, she groaned. No, instead Delta was in a place brimming with corpses and fog that wouldn't part. After the day she had put herself through, all the training, taking care of Elpis, and a mission which she had dedicated too much time and effort to Delta wanted to sleep without dreams, especially one that seemed endless. There around her stood people who weren't dead, but Delta wished they were.

All of the faces that were present Delta recognized, unfortunately. The closest individuals next to her were naturally Dom and Thayne, but the others that were nearby were Nate, James, some girl she had saw briefly on the boat, Oakley, and Wyatt. Why the hell would she dream about them? Especially meeting in a place like this...

Delta turned toward the name, which she had been called on the boat, with fists tightly clenched, she wasn't aware that they hadn't crystallized. If anything she should've killed him then and there, after the first time he had coined her that atrocious moniker. One thing Delta did not take well was being called by any other name than her own. Perhaps if she was as fired up as Dom had been lately the fumes of her anger would've been noticeable, but she settled for her words to display this, "I will rip those glasses off of your face and shove them so far inside of you that even you can see you're made of sh*t." With anger built up Delta had to unleash it and luckily she had multiple victims to choose from. She flicked her eyes from Wyatt to Oakley who stood close together, how did they know one another?

Oakley followed Wyatt's gaze to a familiar face. "Del?" Her eyes drifted as she noticed the coloured bodies above the grey ones. Most were familiar faces -- Thayne, Dom, even James and Nate! She hadn't seen them for so long! But, where exactly were they? It felt like some strange dream.

“Oakley, got yourself another pathetic boyfriend? I guess you can’t do much worse than a dog,” she shrugged and moved onto her next target, James, who she was pleasantly shocked to see. “James Hazen in the flesh or whatever. I’m glad you haven’t died so that I still have the honor of doing it myself.” A smirk settled in nicely when she locked her gaze on the final person, Nate. “It’s cool you’re still alive, kill anymore people? I know I have,” Delta said with a light laugh toward Ice Boy. The others were of little to no importance and thus Delta spared herself from having to look at them for too long.

"Am I dead?" Those were the first words to escape James' lips after sitting up in the ominous place with dead bodies. He was never sure he believed in the fiery hell that everyone always preached, but for some reason, even with the corpses underneath him, it didn't feel like he was dead. But he did feel...hollow. After examining his clothes and body below, all of the marks, aches and bruises he had received from his nightly adventures were gone. When he realized exactly what he was sitting on top of, he quickly shot up. It wasn't until he heard others speak that he realized he wasn't the only one among the living there. That is, if they were living.

"Heh...Del, right?" He began, giving the girl a smirk, before moving on to the others gathered around, the ones he was familiar with anyway. "Oakley, you're here too? And Nate?" His instincts told him to assume he was now dreaming, but he never knew dreams to produce such vivid portraits of faces he never had seen before, both dead and alive. James' eyes set on another among the gathered Atlanteans. " look familiar too," he said to Dom.

"Look familiar!?" They had all just arrived and Dom was already enraged. "I'll show you something familiar!" He hadn't seen James at the beginning and wished Delta had never pointed him out at all. Dom hated seeing that face which had a tendency to look very smug very quickly. Despite everything that kept him busy, Dom had found time to finally train and at the moment he was more than ready to put it to use.

The second Dom spoke, James instantly put his face together with his voice and remembered who he was. The fight with the fire Atlantean was, after all, one of the highlights of his Atlantean life. "Ooooh, right," James remarked, a smile creeping over his face. "I've been waiting for a chance to meet up with you again for a looong time," He added, clenching his fists as he prepared to siphon electricity toward his arms and hands. "Wanna dance again?"

"Let's tango." Dom and James began to charge their powers, a method that would send their respective elements bursting from their palms--at least, in any other place. Here in the body-filled dream no such thing would occur. "What the hell?!"

James stared wide-eyed at his hands, a wave of panic beginning to form on his face at the sudden, unexpected thought of no longer possessing his ability. James pointed again at Dom and tried to fire, but once again, no sign of his ability emerged. It was only at this moment that he realized that no numbing or tingling sensation was present on his arms at all. "*t."

"James! Knock it off!" Nathaniel said, finally catching on to what he intended to do with the other presumed Atlantean. Naturally, he was unsure of where he was and how he got there but he had learned a long time ago that logic was best tossed aside from time to time, when abrupt and difficult to explain things arose from seemingly nowhere. The place he found himself was frightening with its strange ambiance and even stranger physics. Powers seemed to be cancelled out by something. No amount of thought would bring Nathaniel to answer, but he would have to try in due time.

Dom's sudden lack of a power caught him off guard. It had been with him long enough to get comfortable with it, especially when it came to possibly using it. But let's be realistic here, he'd only been working with his flames for about a month, he didn't need those to fight. Dom balled his hand into a fist and advanced on James, ready to throw his punch. Seeing Dom advance toward him despite still being surprised at his lack of powers, James prepared to defend himself by holding his hands in front of him in an attempt to block his punch. It didn't take long for Dom's punch not to connect, not to land, but pass through James' hands and body. He stumbled to catch himself, once again by his powerlessness in this disturbing place. On the sidelines Delta and Thayne couldn't help but let out a fit of laughter. James looked behind him, seeing Dom pass straight through him, wondering where the hell they were. He looked silently down at his hands again, which he noticed began to tremble slightly.

Nathaniel walked toward the feuding Atlanteans and tried to position himself between the two of them, as useless as it was. Any amount of logic and observation would decipher that violence, no matter what kind was just about pointless. "If the two of you are done looking like complete morons, you would notice that fighting is impossible here. Put your...whatever the hell is with you two aside and let's let cooler heads prevail." Nathaniel glared at both James and Dom, trying a different approach as he remembered his old friend's affinity for violence. "Let me put it this way. If you want to fight, we'll need to get out first. So let's work on that and then you can settle whatever your score you have."

"I think we should figure out where here is first," Thayne said to the group. It was odd to see all these Atlanteans in one place (especially since a lot of them appeared to be dead.) It looked like he knew the group for the most part, while others seemed like forgotten, yet recognizable faces. Of course, the hot-headed Dom had immediately jumped into a fight with another one of the gathered people. "Better yet, why are we here?"

Ignoring Nate, James once again raised his arm in the air, pointing it at Dom and trying once again to fire some lightning at him. He shook his arm multiple times, trying to get some sort of reaction, yet nothing came. He couldn't feel anything inside him, not like he used to. He tried to look around for a mirror to see if his tattoo was still even present on his neck, but instead angrily tried shooting at Dom a few more times, before moving his hands over to the latest person to speak. He tried to fire something out with both hands, attempting multiple times to get some reaction, before finally giving up. He sighed deeply, slumped onto the ground and stared blankly on the floor. James seemed either to be unaware of the bodies below him, or simply didn't care.

"Are you finished?" Nathaniel finally asked. "About time you realized that trying to kill us is pointless?" He walked over to James glaring down at the slumped man. "I have my own issues with you, Hazen, like why you tried to kill Nix, but unlike you I can actually control myself for more than a few minutes," he added, dropping his voice down to a stern, low level. "But now isn't the time to go all psychotic and trigger happy on us to prove yourself. Not that killing us will prove much of anything, other than you are threat to everything and everyone." He turned to the others, effectively ignoring James and distancing himself from the man he could once consider a friend. "Thayne brings up a good point. We need figure where here is as well. Not fight. If we can manage to put our differences aside, we may be able to get back to the real world."

"Good to see you too, Nate," James replied cheerlessly, not lifting his eyes up from the 'blank' space of bodies he had been staring at.

The demonstration that had just occurred between James and Dom brought Delta back to Paris. That was her first true testament as an Atlantean, the first time she was actively able to display her powers. She recalled how Ice Boy had told her to step aside like she was some fragile being and how he barked orders like he was some sort of leader. Delta had gotten fed up with him then and those same feelings resurfaced. James seemed... different, albeit she had only known him for a brief moment, but his eyes were no longer the same ones Delta had looked upon. It appeared as if The Librarian's trio was officially broken, Nate's speech highlighted that fact.

"You're not in charge of what we do or how do we things, as much as you would like that," Delta stepped forward, and crossed her arms, another act, besides her tone of voice, which displayed her not-so-happy attitude. "If you were going to kill someone, you should've started with him instead of the easy targets," Delta turned her head towards James then pointed at Nate, "That way we wouldn't have to hear him speak about the right way to do things."

Delta's smirked stayed put, she remembered how haunted he seemed about killing, but also how quickly he brought it up, "Oh, speaking of controlling ourselves, how in control were you when you murdered that guy?"

"That was then and this is now," Nathaniel said, his eyes glaring at Delta. He hadn't still redeemed himself fully, at least in his own mind but he can come terms with it. Dwelling on the past would not accomplish thing. He had to look towards the future. He wanted to clarify that he never intended to kill him, but that would only admit weakness. It was apparent that in this group, strength was everything. "I did what I had to. And that is what I am doing now. It seems if one of us does not step up to be the leader, we won't accomplish anything. We will do what we have done in this past few moments. Doesn't seem very productive now does it?" Nathaniel asked almost sarcastically as he walked closer towards Delta.

"And James did what he had to," Delta said, keeping her eyes locked onto him. "If that was then and this is now, why are you bringing it up? You seem to let yourself off easy and yet punish others for the exact same crime, well, not exactly the same since James' is still alive..." Delta said before stepping forward. She felt pretty unthreatened by his approach, with or without powers she would take him down a peg or two eventually, might as well start now. "I don't know what the ARF has accomplished... Oh wait, yes, I do. Let their mansion get invaded, can't train their students, having students constantly leave, they have terrible leaders, and overall being a very subpar organization of Atlanteans that will end up six feet under if I ever come across them, but don't project that onto the rest of us." She had made it a point to gesture to Thayne during the appropriate part.

"And you want us to think that you're capable of being a leader? Step aside, you're nothing but fruit of the poisonous tree," Delta laughed, at this point there were only centimeters between them. Even with her heels on his was still taller than her as well as larger than her in almost every aspect.

"Hey, hold on," Dom started, addressing both Delta and Nathaniel. "First of all, who said anything about a leader? I don't need a leader, especially not you," he said directly to Nate. "I don't even know who you are! And you're from the ARF?" Dom shook his head, "Oh yeah, absolutely not. And you two look like you're about to fight. Didn't we just go over that with this guy?" He gestured to James, who had already made him angry with that whole lightning bolt thing. It was really just the dream-space that spared everyone from the heat of his anger. Well, that and he'd been talking to Julian, but those training sessions might not be working for an out-of-class session. "So can you two stop wasting time? Because I just want to get out of here and this looks like it's holding me up."

Thayne couldn't help but agree with Del, not that any of it was necessarily important. The ARF hardly had a good track record. After all, they had at least twenty plus kids kidnapped during the invasion. Looking away from the arguing group, he eyed the little girl standing behind them. Her stare and smile only made him shiver. She had to be the reason they were all there. Was she an Atlantean too? he thought as she looked upon them. There couldn't be another explanation, could there?

Oakley's brain had finally caught up with what she was watching, blinking at the familiar faces of Nate and James that had seemed to have changed so much. She had changed too, she had to add. How had they been since they had parted ways in Paris? The arguments that erupted between the group didn't surprise her (it was something that she had experienced a lot in the past few weeks) but at the same time, she wanted everyone to just... get along. She felt like she was the only one who didn't have any beef with anyone. Well, that might be because she didn't hold a grudge. Or because she was too naive and stupid to hold anything against anyone.

Austin woke up with a crick in his neck, and a sore chest. He popped his neck by pushing his palm into his jaw from left to right, and yawned. Suddenly aware of his surroundings, he noticed several people arguing back and forth in front of him. Rolling his eyes, he got out of his strangely uncomfortable bed and stretched. He was no stranger to mental illness, and this was clearly an illusion. Or dream. Something. Austin walked closer and saw that he actually knew some of these people. Wyatt from Paris and Nate from the mansion, to be exact. He somewhat recognized the others but he just assumed they were various people he had walked past in New York or something. Now people started noticing him as he took his spot in the throng of people.

"James and Nate," she said, mainly to herself, desperately wanting to ask them how they had been, though it seemed a little pointless considering the situation they were in. She had to ask herself again if she was dreaming, though it was just too vivid to question it. She peered around the group to notice the small girl who had been standing there with a strange smile on her face. The way she stood there, it reminded Oakley of something from a horror movie. Oakley raised her voice, hoping somebody might stop arguing and hear her. "Maybe we she should ask her."
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Last edited by Retro Bug; June 5th, 2014 at 03:07 PM.
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Old June 5th, 2014, 02:21 PM
revlis's Avatar
The Sentinel
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Library of Souls / Akashic Records

November 21st/22nd, 2012

While all the Atlanteans who had been brought into her dreamscape argued, Selephial waited patiently for them to finish. Unlike these children she had all the time and patience in the world and several of them looked like they had issues to work out with one another. She figured they would get around to acknowledging her when they were finished, so she simply waited. She smiled when Oakley finally pointed her out to the others, despite having spoken to Wyatt previously, and she waited for the rest to quieten and look to her.

“Hello!” she said rather cheerfully, “my name is Selephial! And you all are the World Changers!” She clapped happily as she bounced on her toes. Even two thousand years old and she still acted like a child.

“What are the ‘World Changers’?” Wyatt asked the little girl cautiously.

“They change the world, silly. Those people behind you were World Changers too,” she commented pointing to the pile of bodies lying behind them. “Every generation there are different World Changers with different abilities. They affect the world in many ways and that is their purpose. Some pass, others fail.” She seemed rather grim when it came to mentioning the possibility of failure, making Wyatt gulp nervously.

“But you weren’t brought here for me to explain everything to you; you’re only here to hear my prophecy!”

Selephial’s wide grin soon turned sour as tears began brimming at the edges of her eyes. It pained her to see all the horror and devastation sometimes and even the good moments seemed brief in comparison. She always hated when this happened but she had no way of controlling it; it felt like her ability was taking over her body for its own purposes. With eyes clouded over and darting to and fro, she began seeing blurry pictures, all mixed up and flickering across her vision almost too fast to register. The only words she could muster were cryptic:

“The future is dark, shadows control all
The future is clear, everything is ephemeral
The future is cold, separation the key
The future is sturdy, peace and prosperity
The future is bright, chaos reigns supreme…”

The Oracle drifted off at this last line, furrowing her brow as she saw something troubling that the others did not. From his position Wyatt could catch sight of the other eight Atlanteans that now stood before the Oracle and wondered just who she was talking about. When she finally spoke Wyatt couldn’t help but feel it directed at certain individuals.

“The harbingers of light must each choose their tool: Mirror, Sword or Jewel. For one shall wield all three, the true Sol rise.”

Following each prophecy, she lightly touched the hand of each Atlantean associated with the prophecy causing another tattoo to bloom. The tattoo bore the same resemblance to the ones borne by the many corpses piled up behind them yet appeared of differing parts of the body. As she reached Charlotte and Wyatt, the Oracle faltered, almost not wishing to give either of them the mark. Wyatt got the feeling that for both of them the previous prophecy did not apply.

“To heal or harm, aid or aggravate; the two who follow this path bear not the woes of others, but the woes of themselves.”

She made contact with both of them at the same time, delivering a very similar tattoo to them as she had the others. Wyatt rubbed his wrist as he felt the itching sensation of the tattoo burning into his skin. Unlike his previous tattoo which was three solid objects, this one seemed to be made up of many small lines feeling like ants crawling over his wrist. When it was finished he looked to the inside of his wrist at the arrangement of sharp lines and circles. The Oracle then stepped back, smiling proudly at the collection of Atlanteans standing before her. She hoped that this time around they were more successful than the ones before them.

“Thank you Selephial, you’ve done a wonderful job as always,” Suddenly a large, Mediterranean man dressed in a suit appeared behind the Oracle; his hand resting on her shoulder. She smiled up at him like a sister would an older brother; comforted by his presence.

He started to address everyone, “In the Human world, my alias is Lucas Cypher, but like my darling sister here, I am too Atlantean. Lucifer is my name. I brought you all here with the intent of explaining everything you need to know. As you all know, you’re the new generation of World Changers; how lucky for you all. The World Changers are a select few of Atlantean/Human hybrids that possess the possibility of changing the course of the world. Like Selephial informed you, each generation has their fair share of World Changers and this is possibly the biggest turnout I’ve even seen. But I digress. That tattoo that you have each received is not only the mark of a World Changer, but another facet of your Atlantean selves. It will allow you to reach and control the higher echelons of your ability quicker among other things. No matter how you try, you will also never forget the prophecy. It has a way of cementing itself in your memory so that you can call it up at any time. Only one of you will prevail in the end, however, so from this point on you are no longer friends, but enemies.” Lucas saw Wyatt shift his gaze towards his sister and smiled; sibling fights were always the most enjoyable.

“But before you all go,” Lucas waved his hands and the fog lifted to reveal a large library with an ancient looking façade surround them all as they stood in a courtyard; the bodies nowhere to be seen. Tall pillars stretched high to a roof that seemed to be several stories up resting above the clouds. The man walked them all closer to what appeared to be a large archway that led into the main foyer of the library, “This is the Library of Souls. As each of you ventures through this archway, you will find yourself in a separate wing of the building. There you will meet one of the beings who came before who will explain more things to you.” Waving at them all, Selephial childishly skipped through the archway, her body disappearing as she skipped under the arch.

“Through their dreams, any Atlantean can access this old archive and the information pertaining to them that it holds. It may take some practice at first, but if you visualise your library before you sleep then you should go there as soon as you fall asleep. When you step through this arch, you will be separated from the others as no two people can trespass the same wing.”

Wyatt was the first to step forward, feeling compelled by the library to proceed. He stopped just before the arch, gingerly stretching his arm forward to see it disappear, but it simply grew dark under the shadow of the arch. Confused, Wyatt stepped forward, expecting to appear in the foyer he could see beyond the arch but stopped suddenly as Lucas, or Lucifer, spoke.

“Before you go there is also something I have neglected to mention. As I said previously, one of the World Changers will become the victor and one of the Harbingers will become the true Sol. That final battle will occur in one month’s time. I suggest you all train hard to make it a worthy fight.” Lucas soon left as he was there one minute and gone the next. Pushing forward, Wyatt stepped through the dark veil beneath the arch and into the Library of Souls.

“Welcome to the Library of Souls, Wyatt Cale.” The tall, lanky figure bent down on its four joint legs to rest its face in front of his. It would have been a stretch to say that the figure was humanoid, despite its rather human like legs, arms and face. Its legs appeared human, but on closer inspection he could see what looked like two ankle joins connected by muscle half the size of what he assumed were its calves; one above the other. Its arms were very human, but its hands only supported four fingers as one looked like it could act as a thumb. Aside from that it stood almost hunched over with a hairless tail gently sweeping behind it and a slightly elongated neck. Its pale grey skin looked leathery and seemed drawn tight over its muscles. A strange creature, what made it even stranger was that the creature talked to him yet it had no mouth. He couldn’t help but stare at the blank skin where the creature’s mouth ought to be.

“How-how do you know my name? What is this, what did he call it, Library of Souls?” Wyatt couldn’t stop gawking and marvelling at the freakish grey creature that stood before him. He had to hold back on the urge to touch the two giraffe-like horns sticking out from the top of its head.

The weird alien-human thing waved its four-fingered hands at the paintings on the walls around them. “Look around you, Halfling, we are in the Library of Souls. Also called the Akashic Records, this library is a record of all those Atlanteans and half-breeds that possessed the ability of Optikinesis before you. For each person, the Library appears in differing forms; as yours appears in paintings, someone else’s could be statues or even books.” Wyatt soon found himself walking alongside the tall creature as they strolled through the hall of paintings.

They stopped for a moment at a painting that looked like a scene from one of the World Wars. In a crumbling clock tower a man was looking down the barrel of a sniper rifle as Allied forces marched below unaware. Wyatt felt like he knew the man, and looking at his eyes he could see the painting changing the colour of the man’s eyes. Tripping out on it, he decided to move to the next picture which seemed even older. The picture this time was a woman standing triumphantly with one foot on a rock, posing as if she was the most important thing on earth. In the background he could see men carrying crates and Wyatt felt like she had discovered new, uncharted lands.

“You’re… not human, are you some sort of Atlantean?” Wyatt wasn’t quite sure about the creature standing next to him, then again he wasn’t even sure about where he was. Every picture he looked at in this place made him feel like he was having a deep sense of Déjà vu and he was beginning to feel ill.

“Far from it,” the creature spoke and Wyatt figured it was somehow projecting its thoughts outwardly. “I am Lemurian, or as they Atlanteans say ‘The ones who came before’. We lived on this planet long before the Atlanteans arrived and took great care in living harmoniously with it. Spiritual in nature, we were the ones to teach Atlanteans how to unlock their chakra’s and subsequently use their abilities. They branded themselves with dark marks to signify the abilities they unlocked as the more they had, the more prestigious they saw themselves.” Wyatt thought on it for a moment, laughing at the idea. The way everyone had made it seem like having abilities was something to do with being Atlantean, but in actual fact it was these creatures, these Lemurians that made it all possible in the first place.

“So what’s your name, Mister Curator?” He asked a little sarcastically than he had intended.

“We Lemurians have no name, we are just our beings. My Atlantean name, Camael, I believe it means ‘one who sees’ in your tongue.” He looked at Wyatt with those big, round blue eyes and Wyatt couldn’t help but shiver as he felt a shock rocket up his spine.

“Then how are we here? How are you here?” Wyatt had so many questions spinning in his head that no doubt this Lemurian could read.

“The Library exists on a separate plane of existence. Through that Atlantean mind of yours, you can access only this portion of the Library that houses all knowledge of the predecessors of your ability. As for me, I am simply an echo of my former self. As I passed on knowledge to my Atlantean students, so did I pass on the memory of myself. The Atlanteans built these Libraries so they could share their knowledge for generations to come. When we Lemurians passed away and our ashes scattered to the winds, we dedicated our souls to maintaining the knowledge stored in this plane.” Wyatt could almost detect sadness in the Lemurian’s voice. This creature had been haunting these desolate halls for thousands of years; it seemed like a rather sad and isolated afterlife to live.

“If this place is meant to be a library then where are all the books?” Every time the Lemurian referenced this place, he called it a library, yet Wyatt couldn’t see a book in sight. It felt like a single, endless corridor of paintings.

“As your predecessor, Kostya, often spoke, ‘a picture is worth a thousand words’. Each Library shapes itself to suit the user; your ability allows you to see beyond the simple two dimensional image. Go on, have a try.” The Lemurian gestured at the closest picture of a woman sitting high atop a throne.

Wyatt turned to the nearest painting of a girl on horseback. When he looked at the painting, all he could see was the still image of the horse racing through a meadow. After several minutes it seemed like he had looked at every inch of the painting and it still hadn’t changed from the static image. He was about to turn around and complain to the Lemurian when he caught a small bit of motion within the painting. Looking closer he noticed a couple of yellow flowers gently swaying to and fro in the wind. As he focussed more on the flowers, the landscape around them began to grow into motion until Wyatt felt like it enveloped his entire vision and he was at some bird’s eye view of the whole scene. He felt himself move along and descend towards the ground, approaching the girl as she brought her horse to a stop. He was now close enough to be able to touch her yet he had no hands to do so with; no body either. He was a ghost was he watched the scene unfold before him.

The wind whipped through her dress as the horse sped through the open meadow. Wyatt got the feeling that she was busy trying to escape from something or someone hot on her tail. However when he looked back to see he couldn’t see anything. Following alongside she soon came upon a lone man saddled on a horse. From the hill he could see her making her way to him but also those that were chasing her. Bringing their horses closer together the two locked lips for several moments causing Wyatt to turn around and give them some privacy. When he tried to walk away from the scene, he was forced back after a few steps. Obviously while in the memory he was unable to stray too far from the person whose memory it was.

They spoke several hushed words; Wyatt trying to overhear them but the only word he could pick up was ‘Dusk’. Looking to the west he could see the sun setting rapidly and a sense of emergency picking up between them before taking up opposing directions. As the sun set Wyatt could tell it was getting dark, everything becoming harder to see. When he looked at the girl however, her eyes lit up like his and he knew that she could see better now. For some reason his ability kicked in as she used hers, despite not being able to use it in the dreamscape or in the library. He continued to watch as she manoeuvred around trees with simple ease; even steering the horse away from a hole that would have sent it sprawling.

He could feel his heart pounding as if he was in this girl’s shoes. He didn’t know where she was going nor what her agenda was but he felt the importance of it resonating within his own body. Slowly, he could see rather large walls appear on the horizon and slowly creep forward as light illuminated upwards. As they approached the walls, Wyatt felt a growing knot appear in his stomach similar in feeling to when he first fell asleep. Wary of the feeling, he decided to let it take him; dragging him from the scene.

When it was all over Wyatt felt himself pushed back until he had returned to the Library wing. It felt like he had actually been inside of the picture but something told him that the picture was just a median for travel and that he had gone into the memory of his past life. At first he looked down at his hands, slightly glad that they were back and then up at the painting. The scene had now shifted, the girl no longer riding her horse through a paddock but rather scaling the walls of a castle.

“These are all your past lives, Wyatt, and while in the Library you have access to each and every one of them. Whether you learn from their mistakes or repeat them; that is for you to decide. I will always be here if you need to talk, so you know where to find me. Good luck, Mister Cale, and may the light of the universe guide you.”

Wyatt again felt himself being dragged back. His voice got stuck in his throat but as much as he struggled to yell or to stay where he was the more he seemed to be pulled away from the scene. He wasn’t ready to leave; he still had many questions left unanswered. Everything blurred and his body now felt a lot heavier than the lightness he had grown accustomed to in this dreamscape. When he awoke, Wyatt sat upright in his bed breathing heavily. His whole body was drenched in sweat and his sheets stuck to him like glue. It had all been a dream yet it didn’t feel like it. Throwing the covers off of his bed and peeling his uniform from his body, Wyatt jumped into the shower.

As the water washed over his body, Wyatt began recounting to himself the entire sequence of the dream that had occurred so vividly. Arguing with Oakley, the prophecy he could recount word by word, Lucifer and the library not to mention the creature, the Lemurian. It was all a lot of information to take in as he stood there underneath the torrent of hot water. If there were one person who could explain it all, then Wyatt would need to go see him. It was time he had a talk with the Blind Prophet.

Last edited by revlis; 4 Weeks Ago at 12:52 AM.
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Library of Souls

November 21st, 2012

Was this a dream? It couldn’t be, in dreams you never wonder if you’re dreaming. But this was all too weird to be real. Then again, it was too real to be an illusion. A World Changer… it felt strange to be referred to as something so…important. Austin paid close attention to the prophecy as Selapial walked around the group.
“The future is dark, shadows control all
The future is clear, everything is ephemeral
The future is cold, separation the key
The future is sturdy, peace and prosperity
The future is bright, chaos reigns supreme…
The harbingers of light must each choose their tool:
Mirror, Sword or Jewel.
For one shall wield all three, the true Sol rise
To heal or harm, aid or aggravate;
the two who follow this path bear not the woes of others,
but the woes of themselves.”
The true Sol… well sol meant Sun, or One. There must be a sort of head honcho in the World Changer Business, probably the ones who aren’t dead in the corner over there.

Austin gulped at the thought of having to compete with these folks. The two he saw in Paris especially, fire and lightning. How could he compete with the likes of those? And poor Wyatt, what good would his bow do against fire man?

“Thank you Selephial, you’ve done a wonderful job as always,” said a tall man in a suit as he appeared behind the little girl. For some odd reason it seemed like he was her dad, or maybe an older brother in the way he addressed her.

He started to address everyone, “In the Human world, my alias is Lucas Cypher, but like my darling sister here, I am too Atlantean. Lucifer is my name. I brought you all here with the intent of explaining everything you need to know. As you all know, you’re the new generation of World Changers; how lucky for you all. The World Changers are a select few of Atlantean/Human hybrids that possess the possibility of changing the course of the world. Like Selephial informed you, each generation has their fair share of World Changers and this is possibly the biggest turnout I’ve even seen. But I digress. That tattoo that you have each received is not only the mark of a World Changer, but another facet of your Atlantean selves. It will allow you to reach and control the higher echelons of your ability quicker among other things. No matter how you try, you will also never forget the prophecy. It has a way of cementing itself in your memory so that you can call it up at any time. Only one of you will prevail in the end, however, so from this point on you are no longer friends, but enemies. But before you all go,” Lucas waved his hands and the fog lifted to reveal a large library with an ancient looking façade surround them all as they stood in a courtyard; the bodies nowhere to be seen. Tall pillars stretched high to a roof that seemed to be several stories up resting above the clouds. The man walked them all closer to what appeared to be a large archway that led into the main foyer of the library, “This is the Library of Souls. As each of you ventures through this archway, you will find yourself in a separate wing of the building. There you will meet one of the beings who came before who will explain more things to you.” Waving at them all, Selephial childishly skipped through the archway, her body disappearing as she skipped under the arch.

“Through their dreams, any Atlantean can access this old archive and the information pertaining to them that it holds. It may take some practice at first, but if you visualize your library before you sleep then you should go there as soon as you fall asleep. When you step through this arch, you will be separated from the others as no two people can trespass the same wing. “Before you go there is also something I have neglected to mention. As I said previously, one of you will become the victor. That final battle will occur in one month’s time. I suggest you all train hard to make it a worthy fight.” Auatin gulped again. Wyatt seemed to be the first to act, stepping almost immediately through the arch. He seemed like the type of guy who would make a great leader, always doing stuff like he already knew the outcome. Austin didn’t want to get shown up by him, so he jogged to the door and went in second.


Through the other side, Wyatt was gone, and instead there was a freakish, grey creature looking at Austin, who flinched at the sight of it. The room itself was almost pitch black, with small orbs of light hanging above. Along the walls, doorways made of opaque white fog stood, each with an orb above them.

“Ah, the Tseng boy,” the creature started…well, talking, but without the necessary vocal body parts typically required for speech, such as a mouth. The rest of the creature was all legs, a short torso, and somewhat normal arms with strange alien hands. Oh, and it had a tail. No antennae, however.

“You know, your coming has been heard in many Tsengs throughout the ages.”The creatures eyes smiled and Austin swore it shook with laughter, even though no sound came out. “I apologize, I say that joke every time a Tseng comes in here. Which isn’t often, mind you. You’re a special lad.” He bent down and looked into Austins face, analyzing him. “Ah, yes, I see it. They all thought I was joking, when I said your specific family made its way to the Far East. Korean, I believe you’re called by your peers.”

Austin backed away a little bit, “How do you know my family? Have they been here too?”

“Oh, not the family you’re thinking of,” the creature said, “in the Library of Souls, I hold knowledge over every Atlantean to live with your specific ability. You belong in a family of Lumokinetics, ones like you who have harvested the power of the Sun as light. I am called Sorath by you Halflings and Atlanteans.”

“So…you’re not an original Atlantean?” Austin inquired.

“Heavens no, child. I am Leamurian. We were the ones who made the Atanteans what they were thousands of years ago. And through them, are responsible for the success of mankind.”

“So…you’re like an ancient race that lived on Earth?”

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”

Austin shook his head, “Okay, so ignoring all of that, what kind of library is this anyway? Where are the books?” Sorath shook again.

“This is the Library of Souls, or, Sols, in this case.” He chuckled again at his pun, “Here, memories are stored, not words. Look around you.” Austin looked around, and as he did, it became more apparent to him. Each orb was slightly different. All were white, about the size of a baseball, and moving slowly, but each swirled differently, some were opaque and some faint. These were souls, the souls of those who could control the light. Austin walked up to one. It seemed to be beckoning him closer. He reached out and brushed it with his fingers. Suddenly, the soul unraveled, swirling itself into the shape of a man. He filled out in color, and descended to the ground with closed eyes. As his feet touched down, he opened his eyes, looking straight into Austin. Clothes materialized on him, and it became apparent that this was one of the first Lumokinetics. He wore tattered fur clothes, no shoes, and had long, mangy brown hair that seemed matted beyond belief. Not exactly a caveman, but an early civilian no doubt. He pointed to a doorway.

“This is one of my star pupils, a vagabond of sorts, yet he had a real knack for the light. He left only a few years after his training, and traveled very far away from the Mediterranean. He died in Eastern Europe, around the country you know as Ukraine.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Oh, him? Nothing in particular. I just thought he was an interesting character.Now, I know this all exciting and I’m sure you’re dying to see your other ancestors, there is one more thing we must do before our little self discovery.’ Austin broke his attention from the vagabond and looked back to Sorath, interested.

“As your prophecy told, you are one of the Harbingers of Light, one who has the potential to become the one true Sol. And as such, you are to choose an item that will aide you on your journey to defeat the other two Harbingers, and in that way receive their items that had aided them to defeat you.” As he said this last line, three floating items hovered in the air before Austin. A short bronze sword that looked as it had come fresh off the set of Gladiator, a small, round mirror hanging on a chain, and an ornate necklace with a jade jewel on the (supposed) end.

“The Sword, The Mirror, and The Jewel. Each one will go to each of the three Harbingers of Light.”

“Wait, what if we all pick the same one?”

“You won’t.”

“But what if w-“

“You won’t.”

“Okay…” Austin rubbed his hands together in thought. The Sword…the mirror, or the jewel…

Austin 17 peered over his shoulder, “Sword.”

Austin 8 pulled 17 away and said, “No, mirror!”

Austin reached for the Jewel. 17 and 8 sighed.

“What a moron! If you would have just told him sword too, he would have listened to us!”

“Sword?! That’s the only one worse than Jewel! Mirror, was the correct choice!” Austin sent a mental kick in the shins to each of them and they shut up.

“Ah! The Jewel. Well, that is a fine choice, especially for one with your utilitarian abilities. The Jewel is possibly the safest choice out of the three. It will give the wearer a sort of sixth sense, allowing them to know of any danger headed their way. The Jewel can also be used by saying the word ‘Apodrasi’.” Sorath leaned closer and whispered, “It means ‘escape’ in Greek…” Leaning back up, he said, “And with that, lets meet your ancestors.” Austin put the necklace around his neck and turned back to the vagabond.

Another soul spiraled down beside the vagabond, unswirling to become a man as well. He was shorter than the last, bald, and wore a toga and sandals. The next, a tall gaunt man wearing a cloak that covered almost every inch of his body. More souls lined up, each a little more different than the last. Finally, it came to a Korean woman in a lime green silk dress decorated with dark green flowers, with a brilliant headpiece fixed with a sun-shaped ornament on her crown. They all pointed at the same gate. Austin looked at each person carefully, and stopped at the Korean woman. She looked back at him, smiled, and then went back to staring at the fog gate. A little creeped out, Austin walked through the gate.

Immediately he had to squint. The sun was bright, and beaming down upon him. It was about midday, with strong winds and not a cloud in sight. The ground was completely covered in wet ice, and it was hard to move without slipping. Austin heard several people speaking in a language he didn’t quite understand behind him. He turned, and saw dozens of canoes floating toward his position. In the lead canoe sat a man with a long, white beard. He pointed at Austin, though he didn’t seem to notice him there, and the canoes shifted position slightly to make landing where he stood. He held up his hands to the sun, making strange shapes with them and squinting through it. He must have seen something good in his hands as he started yelling with glee. Everyone was dressed in thick wool coats and pants, with seal skin boots.

“This is the Bering Strait!” Austin exclaimed as he put it together. Nobody seemed to hear him, however. The canoes touched the ice and the people started cheering. The white bearded man was the first to step onto the land. He beamed, turned around and raised his hands high. The rest of the tribe soon followed, pouring onto the ice and patting the man on the back. Austin turned back around and realized he was standing on the first spot mankind saw of America. Suddenly, everything surged around him, as if life was in fast forward. Time stopped, and Austin almost threw up as he realized he was standing atop a high stone structure.

Taking a step back, he pressed against the wall of a small house-like building. Below him a crowd roared, cheering. The sun was setting, and its light shone through the doors of another structure – A pyramid. Austin looked down again and realized that he too was standing on a pyramid. Suddenly the crowd grew very quiet. Austin strained to hear a noise coming from inside the stone house. It sounded like a hymn, or some form of chanting. And then screams echoed throughout the valley. Austin winced as he realized he was listening to a sacrifice. After the screaming stopped, a blood soaked priest dressed in all black walked out of the stone building. Austin felt the same sensation he had on the boat as the priest opened his arms wide and let the light pour into him. The something new happened. The priest disappeared, and instead of him was a bright, shining beacon, illuminating the valley to become day again.

The crowd roared in approval as Austin was sucked back to another place. Gasping as if he had just gotten the wind knocked out of him, Austin looked around to find himself back in the Library of Souls.

“As you can see, the light of the sun has intrigued your ancestors very much,” Sorath chuckled again, “And although I doubt you’ll be sacrificing countless men for no reason at all, you should be wary of the choice you must make. Light can guide, but light can also blind. You hold the power of a dual-edged blade. The infinite truth is yours to grab a hold of, but sometimes it is best to leave things in the dark.” With that, Austin awoke back in his bed, sweating profusely. Austin 17 sat on his dresser, swinging his legs while 8 looked in his mirror.

“First things first,” started Austin 17.

“You should talk to Nate. After you shower.” Austin 8 said. He wrinkled his nose at the stench.


You play too much

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Library of Souls

November 21-22nd, 2012

If there was one thing Delta felt right now it was pure satisfaction, as she didn't just bring Ice Boy down a peg or two she completely destroyed all of the pegs. Maybe he would take the hint that his self-righteous approach didn't actually help anyone, that it was a waste of time, and, most importantly, he was a waste of time. Delta opened her mouth again to rub more salt in his wound when Oakley's voice beckoned her attention elsewhere, a child. How had they missed this girl? A girl with fair skin and long, dirty blonde hair, the child seemed especially close to Elpis's age and stood less than a meter away from the group almost as if she had been waiting for them to notice her. Though, Delta felt creeped out by the way the girl stood there in the background and stared. When they had all fallen silent the girl spoke up and introduced herself as some name that Delta knew she wouldn't be able to recall. The child spewed crazy words such as "World Changers" and "prophecy", this all had to be a joke, right? It was something straight out of a Rick Riordan book.

Normally, Delta never knew when she was dreaming yet something told her that this was more than just a dream. It felt real, was it an illusion of some sort? Keenly she watched the girl as she recited her prophecy, some of it seemed obvious, but which part applied to her? Selephial moved around and delivered a simple touch to each member of the group. After she watched several reactions Delta tried to shy away from the girl, a tactic that did not work and like the rest the group the girl's touch brought pain. Memories haunted Delta of the day when she had received her first tattoo, a day that changed her life forever and she had a feeling this day was doing the same. In an effort not show the slightest bit of weakness Delta bit into her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Only to serve as a reminder that her life as an Atlantean involved a lot hurt. When she had refocused her attention Delta noticed a person had spawned behind the oddly dressed girl who called himself Lucifer. Which left Delta quite unsure why anyone would call themselves that. Thankfully, they weren't left with the cryptic and eerie words of the child to go off of, Lucifer explained in more detail. Again, the status of World Changer was repeated, its importance was made clear by this point. The prophecy was brought up along with the reasoning behind the second tattoo. A clear bond was present between Selephial and Lucifer, more so than them explaining some prophecy together.

There was an interesting twist, however, only one of them would become the true World Changer and another the true Harbinger, and Delta knew then and there this is why she had been training. It wouldn't take much thought for her to see these people as her enemies. This was exactly the kind of competition that would place her at the top. After this, everyone would know her name. Soon the man lifted the fog and spoke about a Library of Souls that they had apparently been standing in the entire time. To some the scenery might have been a fine sight, the pillars seen as true works of art. To Delta everything looked old, dusty, and brittle. Eagerness consumed her, but Lucifer had one more thing to lay on them, there was to be a final battle in a month's time and that was where the victor would emerge. To wait a month sounded excessive, especially when three of her competitors slept under the same roof as her.

"Are you always this absent-minded, Ms. Mayor?" A voice loudly called out causing an echo. The voice had startled Delta, one, because there was no one in sight and, two, she was no longer with everyone else. "I'm behind you, Halfling."

Quick to react Delta swung around with her fists up, powers or not, any that tried to sneak up on her would met a swift end. She blinked hard blinks to make sure what she was seeing was real. Whatever this was it was like nothing she had ever seen before, and thank the lord(s) for that. Mesmerized by the sight Delta let her guard down, her arms returned to her side and instead she raised an eyebrow. It was huge and strange, it had black fur with tons of light gray markings on its arms and legs. The legs looked like they were being kept bent incase it needed to leap away at a moments notice. Horns sprouted form its head, though they did not draw attention away from its piercing green eyes, extremely lengthy tail, and the fact that it didn't have a mouth. Was it a primate of some sort? Perhaps, it was one of the first Atlanteans pets that they had forgotten to make into a rug.

"It's been so long since someone hasn't screamed at the sight of me," It communicated, through what means Delta did not know, but then it moved closer to her and by the sound of its voice she bet if it had a mouth it would've been smiling right about now. Fixated on the creature Delta kept her unwavering eyes on its eyes trying to process the thing that stood before her. The beast stopped and spoke once more, "I'm Rahab, a Lemurian and Keeper of the Akashic Records of Crystallization, welcome Delta Mayor."

"It's--" Delta began to address the creature, but was soon cut short.

The two kept up their staring contest as Rahab completed her sentence, "Del, I know, Halfling. It's what your father always called you, though your mother preferred Delta." She grew tense at that statement, her hands reverted to fists, her body posture took on more of a guarded stance, and anger bubbled up to the surface. How could some weird Atlantean creature know that about her? The next person or thing who brought up her parents would die a cruel death, that she promised. Its eyes seemed to be watching her every movement, studying her like she was studying it. "This subject has elicited quite the response," Rahab said knowingly, and as if he read her mind, "I only know what you know and your past lives know, even the memories you've long forgotten."

"My, my what?" She stammered, still caught up on the fact that it had referenced her parents.

"The Akashic Records or the Library of Souls allows you to communicate with past users of your ability, Crystallization. You have access to their lives, their memories, and them," Rahab spoke as if this was to already be known to her. Upon finishing that statement the Lemurian gestured its hand, which Delta had just noticed only had four fingers, toward a shelf beside him. "Oh, and me, though I am not your past life as I am neither Atlantean or Human, or alive for that matter."

"What?" Delta questioned, there was so much information being thrown at her and she was having a hard time absorbing it all. She was one of the many potential World Changers according to some prophecy with access to the Akashic Records that held the souls of Atlanteans that had the Crystallization ability, which was guarded by some ancient dead animal, in order to fight some final battle to fulfill a prophecy, was that all? This thinking was wasting valuable time. Lucifer had already stated that they were able to gain access to this place every time they went to sleep so for now she could do without the exhaustive specifics. A month was all she had left and when she wasn't taking out the competition she had to spend it knowing her ability inside and out. Delta stepped closer to Rahab to prove that she was not scared then she looked up and talked, "You're like the Librarian of this place so take me to the last World Changer that won."

All of her focus had gone on Rahab instead of her surroundings, a mistake that she would not make in battle. There were, or, rather, what she assumed were, steel shelves as far as she could see in every direction. She cautiously walked toward the nearest shelf careful to make sure the Lemurian wasn't in a blind spot. Each section of the shelves was filled in with a different color and type of crystal, the one before her was clear and bumpy, the one above it was red and smooth, and beside that was blue and jagged, but in every one there were outlines of human bodies. Were these the past lives Rahab had referred to?

"Cyntia Fonseca, born in the year 1741 and died almost seventy years later in 1810," Before she knew it she was following the Keeper down the hallway and somehow she managed to avoid being hit by its tail. They took a left, passing more and more shelves, and then a sharp right that caused Delta to bump right into one of the shelves. Rahab pointed downward towards the lowest row where a wooden plank resided stating all the information it had just regurgitated to her. There she slid her hand across the cold, blue sheet of crystal, tracing the outline with a finger or two. "You have to crack the crystal. Don't worry about the mess it all reforms once you're done."

Had this place been made in a design that fit her or were all Atlanteans with Crystallization violent in nature? Her fists slammed several times into the outline of Cyntia, each time blue crystal bits fell to the ground collecting beneath her. Once Delta had finished her work a woman with tan skin dressed in dated clothes with dark brown hair that was fashioned into an up-do stepped forward. She stepped down from the shelf ever so elegantly using the finger the Lemurian offered her. Two brown eyes glared at Delta, Cyntia wiped down her long, silky, green dress that draped across the floor as she walked. For someone so old she looked incredibly youthful.

"You're ever so kind, Rahab," a dainty voice came out of the women. She circled around Delta like a vulture who had finally found a carcass to devour. With her head held high Cyntia asked, "And who are you?"

"Del, World Changer, I want to win and apparently you did," Delta confidentially replied, not willing to feel threatened by the women who kept circling her.

"God, what century do you live in?" Cyntia scoffed, Delta took her question as rhetorical because she knew any answer would not suffice enough to erase the look she had on her face. Her questions kept coming, "Why do they allow you to wear these revealing garments in public? Have you any modesty? Or Shame? The world has truly gone downhill since I left it."

"Look, you old crone, I need to win. A win for me is a win for us and it doesn't seem like there's a lot of winning going on around here. I didn't come here for your fashion advice," Delta harshly retorted, wanting to skip the song and dance that always happened between two people of the same mindset. She didn't have the time to size up this dead women and come out victorious in a meaningless fight.

Cyntia was taken back but impressed enough to even stop her circling and nod, "Fetch me upon your next arrival, you're vastly fading."

Everything around her slowly grew fuzzier, she saw Cyntia's body being sucked back and entombed in crystal once more. Fighting the feeling was useless, she reached out to Rahab trying to grab hold on its fur but her arms failed to move from their position. Her eyes closed and when she opened them she was no longer in the Library of Souls, no, she was in her bed. The plane was where she had fallen asleep, someone must have carried her back to her bedroom. Delta sat up and took in several deep breaths before she saw a familiar figure curled beside her, she removed the hair that hid her face. Warily she stripped back her covers to not wake her sleeping partner and placed her feet on the ground. In the bathroom she lifted her shirt to see a tattoo on the side of her ribcage, the vivid dream was more than just a dream, as she thought. From there she headed to her night stand and opened it, there laid her AUP-issued handgun, she attached the silencer to the barrel of the gun and went toward the door. If everything that had just happened while she was asleep was true then she knew what she had to do next.

As gently as she could Delta opened her door and peeked out, all the lights in sight were dimmed still, which meant no one in this section of HQ was awake. She moved out into the hallway with her body firmly pressed against the wall as she moved and went to the next door closest to hers. With an outstretched arm she clutched one hand around the knob and the other remained tightly gripped on gun she carried. The door opened with a small creak that caused Delta to freeze for a mere second. She entered the room and closed the door behind her, steadily she held the gun aimed at the head of the person that laid on the bed. Step by step she inched closer to her target, there had to be a hundred percent certainty that her first shoot would be her last. Light reflected off a surface that was on the chest of the person, which stopped her from pulling the trigger. A closer look revealed it to be a... mirror. The harbingers of light must each choose their tool: a Mirror, Sword, or Jewel. For one shall wield all three, the true Sol rise.

A sigh escaped Delta's lips, the death of this individual was unnecessary for the moment, but Delta would keep an eye on him. As conscientious as she had walked in Delta walked out and entered her room once more. She slid back into bed after returning her handgun to its proper place then she wrapped her arms protectively around a girl she had grown fond of, Elpis. Things were going to dramatically change now. Bit by bit the little trust she had reserved for her other juniors had started to diminish. The five to seven targets she had left was all that was on her mind, it was too many for her to sit around and wait for the final battle. She still had two more in the Atlantean Unification Project to check out and possibly kill, what would be her move then?
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Old 4 Weeks Ago, 11:38 PM
revlis's Avatar
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Syndicate HQ, Birmingham, England

November 22nd, 2012

It was still relatively early when Wyatt snuck out of his room and down the hall past the other sleeping Atlanteans. After yesterday no doubt everyone would still be fast asleep. Looking to his watch Wyatt figured he had about an hour to find the Blind Prophet and talk to him before the others would be up for training. Despite having been with the Syndicate for a month now, he knew little other people outside of the Directive, Doctor Meier and Mister Stagg with whom he often crossed paths. As he reached the elevator Wyatt figured the best place to look for the Blind Prophet would be the last place he saw him. Entering the elevator, he pressed a button for several floors up.

When he exited the elevator he was relieved to see that Rose was not sitting in her secretarial seat. Surely it was too early for any of the other staff to be working much less in the headquarters. Pushing the large door open, Wyatt snuck into the office, Darren’s nameplate as the COO glintering in the low light cast from the horizon. Softly closing the door behind him, he began walking up to the desk before stopping suddenly. All the hairs on the back of his hair stood up as he realised there was somebody else in the room; sitting in the Boss’ chair.

“I knew you would come,” the Blind Prophet swivelled around in Darren’s chair until his dusky grey eyes matched Wyatt’s. Wyatt stood there tensely while the Prophet remained seated calmly. After a tense minute Wyatt moved forward and sat down in the same chair he had when talking to Darren Stagg weeks earlier. “You’ve had the dream, right? The one with the others like you and met, what was his name again, Camael?”

Wyatt was speechless, how could this man who he had nothing to do with know about his dream and his Lemurian guide. “H-How did you know about that?” He stuttered, not taking his eyes off of the Blind Prophet.

“I went through the same thing,” The Blind Prophet lifted his right hand, the sleeve of his shirt falling down to reveal the recent World Changer tattoo that Wyatt and the other’s had all been given only moments ago. Subtly Wyatt rubbed the place where his new tattoo had appeared feeling it to still be a little tender.

“You weren’t there,” Wyatt wracked his memory calling up the other figures that had been standing in front of the pile of bodies and all of them had been young; around his age. “You can’t have been there, I don’t remember seeing you!”

“It’s because for me, I went through it many years ago now. I too went searching for a man to explain it to me, and I’ll tell you what he told me.” The Blind Prophet leaned forward over the desk, clasping his hands in front of him and leaning his chin on them. For someone who was blind, Wyatt was freaked out by how confident the man was in his actions, “Your path lies in a different direction. Find your father; he’s the key to the future. That’s all.” The Blind Prophet leaned back against his chair.

Wyatt had to admit that he felt a little dejected; he was expecting another massive prophecy to come his way or even an explanation on what everything meant. But this was short and simple. Surely it had to be a mistake or the Blind Prophet was just trying to mess with him. “What does my deadbeat father have to do with any of this?”

The Blind Prophet laughed so low and deep that Wyatt thought it was some evil laugh, “Your father has everything to do with it. As much as I would like to spoil everything for you, this is something you’ll have to do on your own. Trust me; it’s much more dramatic and surprising if I don’t tell you.” He smiled as if, behind those cloudy grey eyes, he was recalling a past memory.

“Trust you?” Wyatt let out a laugh; he couldn’t believe that this guy implored him to trust when Wyatt barely even knew the guy. “You entered my room like a stalker, probably fed me some weird ass drugs to have crazy dreams, talk in messed up cryptic ways, yeah, there is no way in hell I’m trusting you.”

“Eventually you’ll stop being such an arrogant ass, Wyatt North, but till then good luck.” The Blind Prophet waved him away like he was some servant that could be summoned and dismissed at will before swivelling his chair back around.

“Thanks for nothing, jackass,” Wyatt spat as he got up out of his seat. The way the Blind Prophet had dismissed him seemed to make him angrier. The one person who was meant to have all the answers was as good as useless. Storming out of the office, he made a beeline directly for the elevator, jabbing the elevator button half a dozen times until it arrive promptly. Once in, he headed back down to their living quarters, with about half an hour to spare before any of the others awaken.

Wyatt’s field of view had been reduced to tunnel vision due to his anger that he failed to notice the man standing off to the side. The tall, Mediterranean man was the same one whom he had seen talking to the Directive after their briefing on the mission. Fixing his tie, Ralph proceeded through the door in which Wyatt had stormed out of, approaching the desk and refusing to take a seat.

“What was that about?” He asked the Blind Prophet as he watched him swivel around in the seat like he owned the entire office.

“A dream, really. He’ll come around eventually. Now what can I do for you, Raphael?” The Blind Prophet smirked as he called the man by his true name.

“It’s going down in a month, do the children know?” His fingers tapped lightly on the wooden desk much to the dislike of the Blind Prophet.

“The boy confirmed it; Lucifer has put all the kids into play. Things should start getting a lot more interesting now. Anything else?” The Blind Prophet wanted to hurry this little meeting of theirs up, Mister Stagg would arrive at the office with his secretary Rose soon to start the day. He didn’t want to still be in the room when the man came in.

“Do you remember who backs whom?” Raphael asked cautiously.

“Gabriel is going to stay out of this one; surprisingly enough considering his enthusiasm for interfering previously. Raguel is busy trying to create her own victory and Selephial will be in her coma. We can use the boy to bring out Michael, but other than that we’ll just have to wait and see.” The Blind Prophet’s eyes wavered as he remembered memories from his past; watching him do so made Raphael a little on edge. He hated working with the man, but he had vital intel that they could use.

“Do you always have to be so difficult to work with?” Raphael asked before heading towards the door.

“No I don’t, I just enjoy doing so.” As he watched Raphael open the door he cleared his throat to tell the man something else, “I’ll also enjoy watching both your children fight.”

Raphael’s heart skipped a beat, he knew the man had knowledge, but he himself had been hiding that particular knowledge from everyone. No one knew except for himself of the watchful eye he had kept on his children until they went completely off grid a month ago. If either of them were one of this generation’s World Changers that the Blind Prophet was talking about then he needed to make sure they survived. Leaving the office he made his way to the elevator, riding it up a couple of floors to return to his office. Moving his mouse the screensaver was cleared away to show the desktop; two baby boys in differing pictures stared up at him from the photos. Smiling at their innocent eyes, he launched the company’s emailing application.
To: Daniel Cain <[email protected]>
From: Ralph Aggelos <[email protected]>
Re: New Mission


Come to my office as soon as you get this.
We have urgent matters to discuss.


Ralph Aggelos
Chief Executive Officer | Syndicate Banking
Birmingham, England
e: <[email protected]>

Last edited by revlis; 4 Weeks Ago at 12:00 AM.
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Old 3 Weeks Ago, 12:37 AM
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The Final Watchman
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Library of Souls

November 21-22nd, 2012

Prophecy? Thayne thought as he listened to the two Atlanteans speak their separate parts. Both seemed creepy in their own aspects, although having the name of Lucifer definitely didn’t help any of it. The best thing about this dream (or whatever the hell this was) was the fact that he knew the majority of the people, or it was. Sooner than later, the ‘prophecy,’ along with a new tattoo (that he didn’t feel form) to signify it, set them up as if they were in a contest. From what Thayne could tell of his surroundings, it seemed that the winner was the survivor. For the first time in his life, Thayne actually thought knowing more people was a bad thing. Sure, he hadn’t seen half of them in a while, but the others he saw practically everyday. After the last week, he didn’t really expect any of them to do much, but who knows when you’re told something like this? What are the extremes that some people would go? He shivered at the thought of any of them trying to kill him. He couldn’t help but hope going through the door would put space between them.

“Welcome to the Library of Souls, home of the Akashic Records!” Boomed a voice throughout the large, archaic room that Thayne walked into. He immediately began to look around the Library for the owner of the voice only to find a large, monkey-like beast with short black fur. It faces seemed to be featureless but for its bright orange slitted eyes and short horns. It had bright blue markings around its arms and legs. It looked almost as if it was a giant monkey. The creature crept towards him slowly before speaking once more in what seemed to be a telepathic fashion. “Or as many of you Erebokinetics call it, the Library of Shadows. Trust me halfling, this has nothing to do with your powers, but the sole fact that many believe this place to have insufficient lighting. You would think some of you would appreciate the time I’ve spent in adorning this Library.”

Thayne attempted a smile at the creature, before looking around to see nothing but what you would actually expect in a library. There were the dozens of tall bookshelves, the various places to sit and read, and even the many patrons weaving between the aisles or sitting in the small areas. However, the patrons were what caught his surprise. They were shadowy, translucent in appearance. They all seemed to be in the shape of a human and yet they all lacked any identifying features. They moved around silently, although most seemed to be talking with the others. Many seemed to have ignored his arrival, while others appeared to be staring straight at him. Or maybe their backs are turned, Thayne thought to himself. What are they? What is the thing that introduced the Library?

“I am not a thing Mr. Clarke,” Answered the creature next to him, its large feet taking a step closer. “I am a Lemurian. We are the original inhabitants of the place you call ‘Earth’. The Atlanteans came long after us and were shortly followed by the Humans. As for these people, they are your predecessors. Each and every one of them is someone who has possessed your power,the manipulation of dark matter. Some of them died young, others old. Some of them were immensely powerful, others… Were not. They are here in order to be your mentors, as am I, and are fully open to any questions you may pose them. There is many of them and I’m sure you will want to hear their stories.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Ah, wouldn’t you want to know?” Answered the Lemurian. “My people did not possess such meaningless
titles before your Ancestors came. After that, I was known as Zaazenach, however to match these more modern times, I believe Zach would suit me. Now go off boy and learn what you can for now.”

“But how exactly do I talk to them?” Thayne asked the creature hesitantly albeit he still attempted a smile. The large Lemurian was already a sight that would frighten most, let alone dozens of voiceless apparitions.

“Ah, I forget that you only see echoes. In time, these apparitions will begin to take on their original forms but for now you must rely on the books.” Zaazenach pointed towards the shelves. “Look for the book labeled Nara. I believe that will be a great place for you to start.”

Thayne thanked the Lemurian before making his way towards the shelves. Several of the apparitions turned to look at him as he walked by, seemingly eyeing him and his worth. They could be anyone, Thayne thought as made his way past them. Soldiers, butchers, parents, kids. Hell, there was probably a World Changer or two in the group. Shaking away the thoughts, the young man began to look at the shelves in his search for ‘Nara.’ Each shelf had its own book, complete with a single name on its cover, as well as various other trinkets. Thayne could only assume these were important items to the dead. He began looking through the names as he searched for ‘Nara.’

It took awhile, but eventually the young man reached the ‘n’s. Nacar, Nagel, Nanning, Thayne read as he looked, only stopping when he reached the one he was looking for. The shelf seemed to be less decorated than the rest, its only occupants being the dark plain book and one brown-colored felt boater hat. Thayne couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. Nonetheless, he picked up the small tome. He had no idea how using the book would help him talk to the apparition of Nara, but it probably had something to do with reading it, right? Of course, that’s too easy, he thought as he opened the blank book. He stared in surprise as he flipped through the white pages. How were these books supposed to help him?

“I hope you don’t quit that easily,” said a smooth feminine voice. Thayne immediately looked to his sides, only to see the voiceless echoes walk back and forth. Did one of them make the voice? “Look down Thayne.”

Thayne did as he was told, only to see a woman’s head rest atop the pages. Thayne jumped back in surprise, dropping the book as any sane person would. He watched as the woman took a step towards him, her form solidifying as she did. She was young, although a bit older than he was. She had a smooth complexion and pretty brown eyes. Her shoulder-length, wavy black hair framed her face. As for her outfit, Thayne could only compare it to 1920s cocktail dress, its black decorative lace being its main focal point. “It’s not nice to react to a lady that way,” the woman said with a smile.

“I… I’m sorry,” Thayne apologized. “I just didn’t expect you to come out of the book.”

“Well, that’s because we technically don’t. I kinda wanted to play a joke on you.” She gave another smile and crossed her arms, taking the time to look Thayne up and down.She focused on his face for a moment before continuing. “Ya know, you have the same expression on your face as the rest did. I’ve known several of you ‘World Changers’ and every single one of you seems so confused in the beginning. I guess it’s a reasonable look though.” She seemed to stress the World Changers part with sarcasm, her obvious doubts seemingly leaving an echo.

“What do you mean you’ve known several World Changers,” asked Thayne curiously. “Were you one?”

“Me? Oh, of course not. I just knew the ones that were alive during my generation as well as the one that came before you, although he didn’t last long if I remember right…”

Thayne frowned for a moment, not wanting to hear that one of his predecessors had failed. Of course, they weren’t him. but that still didn’t help the situation. “Who are you?”

“You’re a very curious boy, aren't you Thayne?” She seemed to make it a point to use his name. “I’m Shika Nara and obviously, I’m your predecessor and thus a user of your unique Atlantean ability. For all intents and purposes, I will be your teacher. However, I think our time tonight has come to an end.” As if on command, the girl slowly faded into her apparition state.

“But, I still have quest-” Thayne started to say before a tugging feeling took a hold of him. In a matter of seconds, Thayne awoke in his bed. Part of him hoped everything had been just been a dream. The first thought to prove it was the tattoo. Immediately, Thayne moved towards the bathroom. Flicking on the light, he scanned his body, easily finding the new intricate design. There the large tattoo started off around his navel, making its way around his stomach almost in the same fashion in the one on his back. It was something he could hide, or at least from most people.

Thayne left his room, quietly making his way through the hall and down the stairs . Hopefully, one of the others are open to talking about this, he thought. He turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. At first, he thought Del may have had the same thought as him. Unfortunately, the gun in her hand said otherwise. Thayne took a step back, making sure not to catch her attention before going back to his room. He should have expected her to be the one that would go bat-sh*t crazy.

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Old 3 Weeks Ago, 08:17 PM
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A.T.L.A.S. HQ, Chicago, United States

November 22nd, 2012

Jacques gently rubbed the tender skin beneath the bandages wrapped around the palm of his hand. In his mind he flashed back to that fateful night at the club when the Iceman had crucified him against the wall. The doctors had mentioned he was lucky; the ice spike that had gone through his left shoulder had damaged little muscle and, like the spike that went through his right thigh, missed all the main arterial vessels. Both spots had been heavily bandaged and he was still under heavy sedatives; not just to keep the pain at bay but to also minimalize his ability to use his extraordinary powers. He had lost count of the days he had spent within the padded white walls of this cell. Every day was the same process of waking up, eating and then falling back asleep again. He didn’t even know if his pattern cycle coincided with the time outside and so he became lost in the recesses of his own mind.

“I’m still not talking to you,” Hotaru spoke from the corner nearest the door, trying to look at something Jacques could not see. The door was metal and the only time it opened was when the small hatch popped open to deliver his meal or the doctor sedated him even further.

“It’s ‘kay, bro, you didn’t kill me,” Joey laughed, causing Jacques to winced at the man’s horrible Australian accent. “We’ll get us a piece of that son-of-a-“ Hotaru hushed Joey who looked at her like he was trying to glare daggers.

Jacques heard the familiar thump of boots echoing down the hall; all three of them holding their breaths as the footsteps stopped. There was a metallic clang against the concrete floor outside and the food hatch opened long enough for the boot to kick the tray of food through.

Darting forward, Jacques lucked out as Hotaru made a grab for the stale bread roll; the one thing she knew he prized most of all. Grabbing the tray aggressively, he brought it to the opposite wall where he and Joey began eating the sloppy oatmeal that was left with their hands. Greedily he shoved the food in his mouth before pushing the plate back against the door one he had finished.

“Buta no Jacques,” Hotaru muttered in Japanese as she gingerly picked at the stale roll.

Jacques felt the sting from her stab into his side like he was being pricked with a needle. Lifting up his shirt, he examined the yellow-tinged skin grafted to his pale waist. The tattoo looked like an Asian-styled winged creature drawn as if it used character strokes. It looked awkward and out of place to the rest of his body, much like the third tattoo that had been stitched behind it on his back. He placed his hand on his back, running his fingers over the swirls as he traced the outline of the tattoo. Both had belonged to his comrades who had died, and were currently with him in his cell. He would have blamed the hallucinations of them on the medication, but he knew well enough that they weren’t medically induced.

He had taken their powers, so now they had taken his sanity.

He remembered back to the time him and Hotaru had been hiding out in the safe house following their failed attempt to destroy the Atlantean Relief Centre in London. Raguel had visited them after he had told her of Joey’s demise and their failure. When she had arrived, she was carrying a medical kit in one hand and Joey’s limp, lifeless body in the other. Dropping Joey to the floor, she ordered him first to end the life of Hotaru before they proceeded.

Having never killed someone before, Jacques had found it difficult at first to end Hotaru’s life as she sat there muttering her prayers. But with Raguel’s ability washing over him like a flood, he soon brought his hand around to the front of her throat, coating it with his signature shell before blowing it apart into fragments that burring deep into her throat. With a gargle she dropped to the floor as blood began seeping from the holes now torn in her throat.

“Now, pick up a fragment and cut around her tattoo.” Raguel ordered from behind him, opening up her medical kit while he shakily pulled up Hotaru's shirt to reveal the tattoo spread across the side of her waist. He winced as he felt the fragment cut through her skin, hearing the horrible tear of skin as blood began forming following his desecration of her body.

After a horrible two minutes he had cut around her tattoo, pulling the epidermal layers of her skin from her body. The smell of flesh assailed his nostrils and he wanted to vomit, but in the background Raguel continued to urge him further and he separated the skin from flesh. It felt warm and soft in his hands, like one wrong move and he would tear the whole thing, so he carefully brought it over to Raguel. Lifting up his own shirt, he offered her the skin before closing his eyes. He felt the cringing warmth slap against his waist as Raguel held the tattoo in the same place where he had cut if off Hotaru, slipping a needle between the outside of her skin and his. More than once he cried out in pain and disgust but it did nothing to stop Raguel until she had finished her job.

Yet with Hotaru’s tattoo sewn into his waist, it wasn’t the end of it for Jacques. Picking up the same fragment he had used to cut away Hotaru’s tattoo, he now moved over to the lifeless Joey whose shirt had been ripped enough in the fight with Iceman to reveal his tattoo swirling around on his back. Following the same procedure, he soon had both tattoos sewn into his skin where their previous owners had worn them. As Raguel stood up and dusted herself off, Jacques allowed himself to vomit as he sat on his knees, trying not to get it on anyone.

He felt a pain at his side, whereas Joey’s tattoo was a dull throb, Hotaru’s had erupted into a conflagration of pain. Pitching over into his own vomit, Jacques screamed in pain as he clutched his side. Lifting up his shirt, Raguel noticed that Hotaru’s tattoo was beginning to bruise and wasn’t attaching to Jacques’ body as it should. Laying her hand on the tattoo, another wave of pain wracked Jacques body as Raguel grafted the skin to his body. He soon passed out from the pain.

Back in the Renegade’s flat, Jacques soon awoke; the figures of Joey and Hotaru resting peacefully beside him. When he had tried to touch them, his hand simply drifted through them like ghosts. He had taken their powers like Raguel had instructed him to, but she had failed to mention the main drawback of doing so; he was going to be haunted buy his dead teammates for the rest of his life. Course, the rest of the Renegades thought he was crazy, and then he went out on that fateful mission with Nora…

“Rise and shine,” light now swarmed through the door like a swarm of bees. For the past weeks he had been relying on his own, well Hotaru’s, ability to generate light and this wave of artificial light almost blinded him. The lady’s voice was sharp and authoritative, and having no time to bother with him, she sent in two guards whom each grabbed an arm and lifted him up, dragging him through the door and down the hall.

Mind still foggy from the medication, everything just seemed to be a blur until they took him through a set of double doors and into a room that looked like it belonged in a hospital. Several beds lines either side leading up to a large surgery area at the back of the lab. Waiting by the table stood a man dressed ready for surgery while beside him two nurses waited patiently. The guards simply dumped Jacques onto the operating table leaving him to stare up into the blind light.

“Hello, Jacques, my name is Doctor Tiberius,” the man’s face swam in front of Jacques' vision and then back out.

Lolling his head to the side, Jacques tried to concentrate on a large logo emblazoned on the concrete wall. “A…T…L…A…” Jacques never got to see the last letter as the anaesthesia flooded into his system knocking him back into dreamland.

Last edited by revlis; 3 Weeks Ago at 01:46 AM.
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Old 3 Weeks Ago, 12:36 AM
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Tower of Dragons

November 22nd, 2012
Dom was disgusted.

It was bad enough being in the land of dead bodies, being touched by a strange little girl whose power seemed like it has something to do with seizures, and getting another god forsaken tattoo in a place he really didn't want to discuss right now, but now they had to fight each other? Dom didn’t like this at all. Why two tattoos? He already hated having one tattoo, why did he have to have two? It wasn't as if he hadn't considered what was in a nutshell the freedom that Elpis provided. Clearly he didn't act fast enough because now it looked like he was stuck. Getting rid of his powers didn't seem like it would get rid of the death certificate coming his way. The question was who would deliver it? He'd only known them for a bit over a week, but Oakley and Thayne didn't look like the types to suddenly start killing people. Del... Dom sighed. Del.

Really, this whole thing was a burden. He had no interest--absolutely zero!--in participating in this "prophecy". Or should he say contest because that's what it sounded like. Dom had no reason or want to kill any of these people. Actually... Honestly... After today he was more than set to send James to the lowest pits of Hell, but everyone else? Not even the slightest desire. It made him angry more than anything that he was now supposed to set out for and kill people he may have actually had the chance of being friendly with in any other situation. And for what...? To "change the world"...? What kind of--he presumed--world saving change required him killing people he hardly even knew? And if so many people had failed before them then was this change even necessary? What about the world even needed to be changed? And on top of that... Was it a good change? That's what he thought--that's what he assumed--this whole thing was meant to do. Create a better world for all. Why wouldn't it be something like that? But... How would they actually know?

“Are you done complaining yet?” Excuse me? Dom turned around, ready to say some very choice words to whoever spoke to him, but he was dumbstruck by what he saw. It was a… A… A…? He didn’t even know what to call it. It was some kind of weird monkey… Alien… Mistake. The weird creature jumped up and delivered a strong kick to Dom’s chest. In less than a second Dom was flat on his back. “You don’t look so pretty yourself, Rocky.” Dom sat up and growled, his rage rising. “Calm down before you wake up and piss yourself,” the mouthless creature scolded before turning away from him, “I’ve still got a few things to tell you.” It spoke again once Dom had risen to his feet. “First off, it’s Lemurian not weird, monkey, alien, mistake. Got it, buddy?”

“Don’t call me bu--,” Dom was cut short when the Lemurian whacked him in the face with its thick tail.

“Who’s talking? I’m talking.” The Lemurian faced him again, looking just as pissed as Dom felt. “Second, my name is Puriel not it. Do not call me it, never call me it. Or thing or creature or whatever other demeaning words you can think up. Got it, Dominique?” Dom opened his mouth to speak, but closed it quickly when Puriel raised their tail. “You’re one of the ones that learn quickly. Good. You can speak now, but hurry up and make it something meaningful, I have more to tell you.”

Dom bit back the urge to insult the brown and pink eyesore--Puriel frowned with their eyes; Dom smirked--and instead asked a question. “Where are we?”

"How good of you to ask, that was next on the agenda. This, Dominique, is The Library of Souls!” Puriel made sure to yell “The Library of Souls” extra loud. Even though it had all been in Dom’s mind, Puriel’s voice still managed to echo. They sighed pleasantly. “I love doing that.” After the echo subsided, they continued. “Formally this is called the Akashic Records, but informally it’s been called The Library of Flames, The Tower of Dragons, The--”

“Tower of Dragons?” When Dom looked around the “library” he saw nothing. It was just a big (huge, actually) circular room. The ceiling was up too high for him to see it, but he doubted there would be anything worth looking at. Save for windows, an odd bird cage, and a chest in the back the library was empty. Puriel was angry by Dom’s sudden, interrupting outburst and they made it clear with his face. However instead of taking action they continued their speech.

“Yes, The Tower of Dragons, but before I show you why I have something to give you.” Puriel walked to the back of the Tower (with Dom behind), opened the chest, and reached inside before pulling out a necklace. The thing was gaudy, Dom had to admit. The chain was made of large pearls and at its end was a small mirror about the size of an ovular hand mirror. It too was adorned in pearls and Dom was already wondering if there was a Lemurian without eyes that made this thing. Puriel frowned again. “It’s yours.” Puriel tossed the necklace to Dom who caught it before immediately regretting it. The mirror probably would have looked better if he’d let it break. “Ungrateful as always,” Puriel commented.

It was Dom’s turn to frown this time. “What’s this for?”

“If you were paying attention to the prophecy,” Puriel started, “you would know that this is a weapon of a Harbinger of Light.”

“How is this a--” Dom was interrupted by another whack from Puriel’s tail.

Who’s talking?” Dom growled and clenched his fists, but was otherwise silent. “Good. The mirror gives you the power to deflect any oncoming projectiles, as well as scry for anything you want--for a limited time of course. Plenty useful for battle, I know. There’s two other weapons as well. A sword and a jewel. If you collect those other two items you will become the one True Harbinger.”

“And then what…?”

“And then you’ll just have to find out.” Dom frowned even deeper. This was getting annoying. “But first come to the window.” Dom complied, walking towards the small stone opening. Looking out he could see nothing but the expanse of sky. It wasn’t clear, the entire landscape was cloudy and hard to see through, but it left Dom awestruck nonetheless. He put his hands on the window and leaned forward to look out. As he did a large, orange body flashed across the window, surprising Dom enough to pull away from the opening.

“What was…?”

“It isn’t called the Tower of Dragons for nothing!” Puriel replied. “Look down, look all around the tower! There’s more.” Dom looked down just as he was told. Looking down into the cloudy sky he could seeing exactly what gave this library its name. Hundreds of dragons weaved in and out of the clouds, appearing and disappearing again. Some stayed far at the bottom where he could barely see, but others flew up the length of the spiral tower and disappeared into the clouds above them. It was an amazing sight to see. “These are all of your past lives, Dom. Generation after generation of fire manipulators just like yourself. They come in all shapes, colors, sizes, and even species of dragon depending on where they were from. When you die, Dominique, you too will come here as a dragon. Likely one imagined in the myths of France itself.”

Dom put his hand on his head. “This… Can’t all be real, can it?”

“Of course it can. And it is! You have hundreds of ancestors here, Dom. More than most, actually. High in the clouds and even far below on the ground there hundreds more. Some you may never even see!”

“So can I talk to these guys or do they just keep flying around like that?”

“You can talk to them any time you wish. Do you see those doors over there?” Puriel gestured behind Dom to two giant arched double doors. By the looks of it it had to be at least four stories high, maybe taller. “If you want to see one of your ancestors they’ll come right through that door and speak with you. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“No, I just… This is all very sudden.”

“Perfectly understandable, Dom. Do you have any other questions?” Dominique put the gaudy necklace around his neck and shook his head. In truth he had a lot of questions, but there was so much going on that Dom felt sick just trying to explore it all. “Then it's time for you to leave." Dom opened his mouth to ask Puriel what he meant by “leave”. He had walked into a spiral tower with no foreseeable exits. How could he leave? It was after that thought though, that the tower began to crumble away and Dom woke up.

Dom’s head jolted from the pillow and he blinked slowly, fatigue hanging over him. He didn’t fully awaken until he heard the door to his room close. He sat up some and then went as still as possible until he heard the door next to his room close as well. Del. Had she just been in here?! Dom jumped out of bed and looked around his room. Had she moved something? Taken something? It didn’t take him long to find out nothing had changed. But what could she have…? Had she done something to Him!? Dom checked his body for any injuries that he hadn’t felt yet or new add-ons to his person. The only thing new he found was around his neck. Dom’s eyes widened when he felt the pearls of the mirror and when he looked into the glass he couldn’t believe his eyes. Had it been real? Had that dream really been real? The dead bodies, the tattoos, the contest, the prophecy, the curse…? Dom looked at the wall of his bedroom towards Del’s own room. Did she really believe this!? And had she came in here to kill him? A chill ran down Dom’s spin when the thought came to him and he looked back down at the mirror. They needed to talk about this.
Dominique Bisset // Revenge isn't always served cold. // Atlantis Awakening
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Old 3 Weeks Ago, 10:04 PM
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Library of Souls

November 21st/22nd, 2012

Oakley bit her lip as the small girl’s eyes clouded and she muttered words which felt like she had said a thousand times before. As Selephial touched her, she felt a burning sensation on her hip, a familiar feeling she had felt over a month ago. So, now she was branded ‘World Changer’. What other labels could be placed on her?

Then, Lucifer appeared. Oakley shuddered, his name as ominous as his aura. He smiled at them as he spoke, but as he commented they were no longer friends, Oakley felt a lump rise into her throat. It sounded as if… as if this was a game to him. He wanted them to fight? For what purpose? Selephial said they were destined to change the world, but what exactly did that mean?

The scene changed around them with a wave of Lucifer’s hand, and he continued.

“Before you go there is also something I have neglected to mention. As I said previously, one of the World Changers will become the victor and one of the Harbingers will become the true Sol. That final battle will occur in one month’s time. I suggest you all train hard to make it a worthy fight.” He smiled again. Oakley narrowed her eyes. She did not like this man.

“Wait, why do we have to fight?” She blurted out at him, but it was too late. He passed through the veil and disappeared from view. Surely the others couldn’t agree, that fighting just because someone told you to was a good enough reason? She had never even met Lucifer before now. His tone suggested as if fighting was the only option, but he hadn’t even given them a reason, other than the promise for more power. Was he even telling the truth? “Wait, guys!”

Her words went unheard, as one by one, the others stepped through the arch. She let out a sigh, following suite.

“Good evening, Ms. North.” She was met with a large… thing. It stood on hind legs, balanced perfectly, with tan-like skin lined with pink fur. It had small horns protruding from its head, similar to a deer, and had red eyes, slits for a nose and no mouth. It even had a tail. She stared at it for a moment, feeling inclined to scream, or at least yelp, but she stayed silent. The thing got the general idea, frowning at her. “I am a Lemurian. As for where you are, this is your Library.” What seemed to be the craziest thing about this Lemurian was that it had no mouth, yet it spoke. More Atlantean mumbo-jumbo she had to wrap her head around.

Her eyes were finally ripped away from the Lemurian to stare at her own Library which was literally… a library. Books lined shelves of all different shapes, sizes and colours. Fog clouded the end of the aisles, Oakley unsure of just how big this library was. She looked back at the Lemurian, her mind lighting up with so many questions. The Lemurian seemed to understand her before Oakley opened her mouth, but let her speak anyway.

“Do you have a name?”

“Not exactly. But you may call me Ariel. Not like the mermaid.” Oakley’s face of surprise returned.

“How did you know what I was thinking? Can you read my mind?”

“I am simply extension of your consciousness. I know what you know, and perhaps a little more. I am an echo from my life, passing down knowledge from student to student. As they learn, I live on.” Oakley blinked, obviously confused and Ariel continued. “The Library of Souls contains information of the lives that have also carried the same ability you have. Some have led ordinary lives, some extraordinary but all are important. Like myself, they are echos and can communicate with you through this plane. I would encourage you to seek advice, or at least speak to one of them to experience the Library’s purpose.”

“This all seems so strange…” Oakley’s eyes wandered again, her eyes trailing the books on the shelves. Was each book a past life? Each aisle? Each page?

“And the rest of your life isn’t?”

Oakley smiled. “True.” She head down the nearest aisle, taking a book of the shelf and carefully folding it open. As she read the first few sentences, it was as if she knew what was going to happen next, as if someone had spoiled the plot for her without her even knowing.

Suddenly, the words seemed to peel off the page and group together on the ground in front of her, forming a figure. A man, actually, who stood at almost twice the height of Oakley. Or at least it sure felt like it. From the words she had read, his name was Emerson Faber, a German from the 1600s. As terrifying as he looked, he smiled at her.

“Hello, how are you doing?” He said, in English no doubt. Oakley frowned at him and turned to Ariel. The Lemurian nodded.

“The language here is universal. Any and all languages can be spoken and understood.”

“I see.” Her gaze returned to the giant of a man. “My name’s Oakley.”

“Emerson. Pleasure to meet you.” He held out a giant hand, to which Oakley automatically shook. The feeling was odd: his hand looked rough, but the texture she felt was just… that, a feeling. “What do you do, Oakley?”

“I’m a student. Well, I was. Now I don’t know what I am. A world changer now, apparently.” She shook her head sadly. Destined to be enemies with her friends, apparently. “What do you do?”

“I’m a farmer. I used my ability to work on my farm and protect my village from whatever I could. But it sounds like you’ve got yourself into a situation you’d rather not be in. Am I right?”

“Yeah.” She looked at her shoes sadly. “Were you a world changer?”

“No.” He smiled, shaking his head. “I knew not of Atlanteans until I died. I was just a farmer who came across a stone. Nothing more. But I had a purpose, all the same. I used my ability in a way I thought was right and I died with no regrets. What do you do, Oakley?” He repeated his last question. Oakley realised what he meant now. What did she do? What was she? What could she call herself? “What do you want to do?”

“I… don’t know.” He didn’t seem disappointed with her answer. In fact, he smiled again.

“Next time you return here, we will try to find out. We all will.” He gestured to the rest of the library. Oakley smiled back and went to thank Emerson, but her sight became blurry and darkened. Emerson disappeared back into words and the Lemurian came into view, nodding at her.

“Until next time.”

Then, she woke.
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Old 3 Weeks Ago, 01:32 AM
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Library of Souls

November 21/22, 2012

James continued to sit on the ground, staring wordlessly at his imaginary spot. He looked on in silent contemplation, where he waited for something to happen. He didn't know what, he wasn't sure if he cared what. He just knew the current situation as it was couldn't possibly be how things should be. A life without his powers wasn't a life worth living. In his short time with it, he had grown very attached to it. To see it all suddenly taken from him was unacceptable. Unbelievable. In fact, he could not believe it. He knew there had to be something else at play here. So he waited.

Then came the little girl and the talk of World Changers. James perked up, bringing his eyes to the girl as she spoke. She briefly explained what she meant by the term. James stood up, figuring he would give the girl a chance to explain more. Then came the tattoos, the prophecy, and the Harbingers. Lucas appeared again, which meant he was possibly in with some shady Atlanteans once more, which really was nothing new. Everything else came at him fast, and a lot of what they were saying he wasn't liking. At all. The only positive that he could take away was the extra juice he would be getting from the extra tattoo. Everything else was simply too much to take in at once. Or at least, he didn't know what to make of it. Talk of prophecy was definitely something he was detesting. Someone or something else holding his fate in their hands? No way.Yet even so, James proceeded forward through the arch, taking one last look at the rest of the group as he went inside.

The very first thing that greeted him on the other side was a noise, a strange, loud buzzing noise. It seemed to be coming from all around him, and it wasn't until he saw the sight in front of him that he understood why. James opened his eyes wide, observing the large room, which had in it dozens upon dozens of lightning strikes charging at separate corners of the room. It was as if each one of them had just struck at that moment onto the ground, but now some invisible force was keeping them all locked in place. It was noisy, with lightning particles bouncing off across the walls nearby these larger charges. Yet James felt entirely comfortable here. He could feel his power stir deep inside him, the first sign that everything was right again.

"Comfortable now, I hope?" A deep, low voice uttered to James through the buzzing, crackling sounds of the lightning. James turned and visibly flinched to see the monstrocity behind him, the humanoid-looking creature without a mouth.

"Holy f*ck!" James yelled out loud, backing away a few steps from the 'thing'.

"Relax, James," He creature spoke, though through no mouth to do it from. "I mean you no harm. I am merely your guide through the Library."

"Oh..." James replied, looking up and down the creature still in disgust, though the shock had worn off. "Well now I know why all those other guys were dead," he added, pointing back through the archway he had come from. "Library, you say?"

"Correct, Halfling. The Library of Souls, it is called. Though some have elected to name this particular sect of the Library by another name...The Library of Storms. It is a record of all of the electrokinetics before you. I am its caretaker, your counsel through its vast array of knowledge."

James gazed across the...library. Was it even right to call this place that? He saw no books or pads of any kind. Perhaps it was a special Atlantean library. When it referenced itself again, James turned back to the 'caretaker' and crossed his arms. "And you are...?"

"You may, if you wish, refer to me as Barakiel. I have been called that in the past, though we Lemurians have no proper names." Before James could ask more, as if knowing he would already do so, Barakiel began to delve into the answers. "It is the Lemurians who had bestowed upon Atlanteans the gift of their abilities. We were called ‘The ones who came before’, arriving and living on your planet long before your time, or the time of the Atlanteans."

"Riiight," James replied in a somewhat skeptical, somewhat uncaring manner. Whether or not what Barakiel said was true or not didn't matter. He wanted to get more into the bottom of the library, and everything else said before. "Not like any library I know of."

"Indeed," Barakiel replied, his voice echoing even through the buzzing of the lightning. "Quite unlike any library you've seen, I'm sure. In fact, very dissimilar from the many I have seen as well. The libraries adapt to the users. In this case, the library has formed into the only way in which it though you could learn...through combat." Barakiel lifted one of his disfigured arms and pointed toward one of the buzzing lightning charged. "You step toward the energy and unlock the essence and power of one who had come before you. Thereby, you can use the knowledge and power of the past kinetics to establish your future."

"My future," James repeated with a scoff and a slight chuckle. "And what future is that exactly? The prophecy and the harbinger bullsh*t and the end times? Do I just go ahead and do what they asked? Why should I? Why should I play their game?"

"I am not here to tell you what to do, Halfling, merely to show you the path. It is your decision to decide where to take it."

James chuckled again, dropping to his behind and sitting on the ground, with his arms wrapped around his knees. "It's all a bunch of bullsh*t to me."

The Lemurian came beside James now, staring at him from its awkward positioning, before once more speaking from its unknown origin, having no apparent mouth to do it from.

"I have watched you for quite some time now, halfling James. You are very much unlike many of your predecessors. Or perhaps you are a strand of yarn among strings. Unique in their design, but at the core, still fulfilling a similar function. Of this, I am yet unsure. Mostly because you are yet unsure." James cocked his head up and raised an eyebrow. "You are so close now, so close to discovering your true nature. As part of your subconscious mind, I find myself compelled to urge you to it now. To see."

"See what? What the f*ck are you on about?" He asked, somewhat annoyed at the creepy f*ker now.

"James...what is it that you want? Why is it that you do the things that you want to do? What is your motivation?"

James eyed the Lemurian in a perplexed manner. He didn't know how to immediately respond, so all he offered in response was a simple shrug.

"Oh, come now. You must know your motivation. Why did you cause havoc in the streets of San Diego, firing your ability into everyone and everything you could?" James shrugged again. "Why did you attack the Atlantean called Nix, having decided to leave the Royal Family?" Again, James silently responded with another shrug. "Why did you revel in the burning of Paris? And in your fight with the flamed Atlantean? And in the dispatching of the smoke Atlantean?" James brought his hands to his face, then began to clutch his head. "Why did you decide to murder that family? Even the children, even the infant, without a second thought? Why James, did you go with Henry that day into the taxi?"

"SHUT THE F*CK UP!" James yelled at the top of his lungs, standing back up to his feet. The library instantly reacted to his raised voice, the strands of lightning nearest him acting up and enlarging, before agitating and pulsating across the room. Barakiel did not move an inch, nor show any signs that anything was amiss. He continued calmly as James panted angrily.

"I am not trying to agitate you, halfling. I am trying to ascertain your motivations. Why, James?"

"BECAUSE!" James yelled back, before a jolt of electricty seemed to surge toward his brain. His eyes were wide open as his revelation began to process. "Because. Just because. Because I wanted it. I wanted change."

"You wanted change," Barakiel repeated. "And here, I thought all these outburts may have simply been random acts of incoherence." It seemed somehow that Barakiel was in tune with James' revelation at the same time he was.

"I wanted change," James repeated again with a smile. He stared down at his hands. "I needed to do all of it because each one was a step. Just like getting power is a step, and enacting the prophecy." James saw it now. Everything was a means to an end. The prophecy, the world changers, all of them weren't chains, they were opportunity. Something he could use to get what he wanted. His own way.

In front of James, the three items of the Harbinger appeared. James proceeded forward without a moments hesitation, grasping the sword and watching the other two items disappear from sight. "Sweep out the old and bring about the new," He stated, admiring the new bronze weapon in his hand.

"Then what of the prophecy and the other world changers? You will kill them?"

"Heh...not if I can help it, no," James explained eagerly. He stepped toward one of the large lightning tomes, admiring the way the electricity continuously alternated in form. Never permanent, ever-changing. "Atlanteans aren't the problem, they're apart of the new. I'll need to convince them. If not to join me, then to help me. And if they won't...then they'll be the necessary sacrifices to the new age."

"I see," Barakiel said. "Touch the energy to begin," he stated, to which James did. Immediately it lit up in a burst of light, causing James to visualize a thousand images at once, before one formed of another man, with a large black beard and clothing resembling that of an upscale man of the early 20th century. The man drew lightning from his palms. James drew back. Atlanteans were never the problem, they were the solution. The problem was simply the alternative.

After a while, James woke up in a startling fright. He was panting heavily, and his entire body was covered in sweat. Immediately, he felt a stinging sensation across his shoulder, remembering his eventful evening the night before. His body felt like sh*t, but as he reached to the side of his bed to find the sword he encountered in the dream world with him, he had never felt more alive. James controlled his breathing after a few more moments, sighed deeply, and then smirked.

"Humanity ends."


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Old 3 Weeks Ago, 07:47 PM
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Library of Souls

November 22nd, 2012


The words echoed in the dimly lit icy chamber that Nathaniel found himself in. His footsteps pounded into the sky as he walked in a circle on the ground floor, trying to make sense of where he was. The room was grand in scope with a bluish tint to the ice that decorated the walls and floor in an elaborate, weaving design. Statues and mirrors lined the outer rim of the room and a twisted pillar marked the center. Everything had an opulent, decorative feel to it. And while he could see his breath, the room hardly felt cold. Then again, it never did anymore.


Again, the words just bounced back and dwindling silence responded. Nathaniel was left to the thoughts in his head. A scattered mess, Nathaniel did not necessarily struggle to sort everything out. He understood well enough what was said, and by this point he had almost grown used to everything. Yet, a second tattoo? Another prophecy? World Changers? Harbingers? And only one can be the victor? Much like before, he was struggling to make everything fit into the grander scheme of things and find the meaning behind it all. Yet, he was beginning to think that it wasn’t supposed to make sense and simply accept it at face value. It certainly would make everything easier, but it didn’t sit with him. For some reason, it felt uneasy. Nathaniel gritted his teeth together and rubbed his face with his hands trying to calm himself down. As he opened his eyes, a strange creature towered before him. With grey skin, frog like legs, and flexible tail, Nathaniel could have sworn a monkey fused with a frog before making an alien child. Yet it’s bright blue eyes told a different story. Something about the eyes held wisdom in them, the creature moved slowly around Nathaniel, as if examining him. There was no hostility felt by Nathaniel as soon the creature walked away from Nathaniel and inspected the pillar at the center of the chamber.

“I take it you are the caretaker of the library?” Nathaniel asked.

“I personally never enjoyed calling this place a library,” the creature said, shaking his head. “In a library, all the knowledge is ripe for the picking. All you must do is read and learn. I prefer to call this place a museum. It offers a glimpse into the past. You learn what you choose to see.”

Nathaniel smiled at the creature and nodded his head, understanding what he meant. For whatever reason, he sensed the creature was old. Not even relatively speaking, but even old for what he was. “Who are you?”

“We Lemurians never really bothered with names. And I know you are feeling a small desire to ask what is a Lemurian, possibly in some attempt to polite, but yes, we even predate you Atlanteans and humans. In fact, we taught the Atlanteans almost everything they know, hence why they called us ‘The Ones that Came Before.’ Now what was my Atlantean name again? Oh, yes. Nuriel. You may call me that if it pleases you.”

“Nice to meet you, Nuriel. I am N-“

“Nathaniel Calaway.”

“How did y-“

“You know? I know many things, Nathaniel Calaway. I know that your favorite color is green which is why your favorite film is Star Wars Episode VI. Your best friend Nicolas hates you for it, but you ignore him because you find Episode IV to be quite boring,” Nuriel said walking around the pillar as Nathaniel stood in place, watching intently. “I know that you miss your family, even if you were never close to your mother. I know that you are tired of hearing about prophecies. I know that the lives you believe you took haunt you. And I know that your greatest fear is not being strong enough for the trials ahead.” Nathaniel eyes widened as the Lemurian listed fact after fact. “Welcome to the Library of the North.”

“Library of the North…?”

“Housed here is a chronicle of every single, what’s the word you people use, cyrokinetic before you. Some were good. Some were bad. Some treaded between both. Others were successful, where others failed. And a few did nothing with their gifts.”

“And this is including me?” Nathaniel said, gesturing to himself.

“In due time, of course. You could say that your book is currently being written. I’ve read better ones, but you will fit right in. Of that, I am sure,” Nuriel said, looking down at the young Atlantean.

“And what makes you say that, Nuriel?” Nathaniel asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

Nuriel flicked his head over to one statues that lined the wall, and halted before a statue of a seemingly tall man. The ice sculpture was finely crafted and Nathaniel could make it, long wavy hair, hardened facial features and a thick beard. The clothing reminded him of a cartoon character with a patterned kilt and a large, hulking sword. “Alpin the Cold. Born 1281 and died in 1302 in Scotland during its first war of independence against the British. Come, look at the mirror beside him.”

Nathaniel didn’t question Nuriel and peered into the mirror. “I just see myself.”

“Do you?” Nuriel questioned with a strange expression glistening in his eyes.

“I-“ And suddenly the reflection of Nathaniel warped into something new. Red locks replaced Nathaniel kempt dark hair. A furry beard consumed the face and the clothing became torn and battleworn. A large claymore was held overhead and the image panned out to an epic battle in what Nathaniel assumed was the Scottish countryside.
“Alpin was a great warrior fighting Scottish independence in a time where only a few bravely defended those ideals. He was proud, but in many ways noble and just. He wanted the best for his people and did what he could to protect his vision of an ideal future. He fought alongside a close friend in Ivor. The two fought bravely in many battles, until Alpin’s true potential was unlocked. He earned his epithet due to his sword, which legends state that it froze other blades and men in their place. In due time, the battles grew nastier and tensions rose. Alpin believed that his vision was to soon become a reality. Until one day, Ivor had betrayed them. In the heat of a battle between the British, Ivor and his battalion of men failed to provide the reinforcements necessary to change the tides of war. Alpin managed to break through the enemy ranks, using his cold sword better than ever. The battlefield was said to be covered in ice at the end. Ivor and his closest lieutenants approached the weary Alpin. As per honor between Scotsmen at the time, Ivor engaged Alpin in single combat. Despite fatigue and a valiant effort on the part of Ivor, Alpin proved victorious. Yet he could not kill his friend. Ivor, in the end, slew Alpin in cold blood, ending the Scottish heroes life.” As Nuriel narrated the story, matching images played in the mirror and Nathaniel witnessed every moment. The intense war. The cold sword. The betrayal. The single combat. And the death.

“Why did Ivor betray Alpin?” Nathaniel asked, looking away from the mirror. “What did he gain from it?”

“Perhaps it was jealousy? Alpin had gifts he did not. Or perhaps it was pride? Alpin was a greater man than he. Or perhaps there is no reason? Ivor was a man whose actions may have had no logic driving them,” Nuriel answered, seemingly smiling in his own way.

“Why didn’t Alpin finish him when he had the chance then?” Nathaniel persisted.

Nuriel smiled wider. “We both know the reason for that.”

Nathaniel looked down solemnly, understanding exactly what he meant. “Are you saying that I am going to end up like Alpin if I can’t bring myself to kill? That I am going to lose in the coming battles because I don’t want to take more lives than I already have? I have come to terms with those acts but I-“

Nuriel halted the man’s rant. “I am not as to be so cliché to tell you that I can only show you the door and tell you that you are the one to open it. No. That would imply that I intend for you to do something according to my intentions. Instead, I will give you the knowledge, skills and abilities to help you find your own door. It is your path to find and your destiny to forge.”

Before Nathaniel could muster any sort of reaction, a large hand placed itself on his shoulder. He shifted to face the hand and his eyes set themselves on a man of comparable size and stature. He wore a dark suit, with a white waistcoat and a dotted tie with a small top hat placed upon his head, with brown hairs peeking out ever so slightly due to his well-trimmed hair. He sported a well-trimmed moustache, though Nathaniel felt it was a bit bushy to be at all comfortable on the face. “Oh, Nate my boy, I didn’t think I was going to see you so soon after our fight!”

“Who? What?” Nathaniel stumbled back, terribly confused as he felt the library drift away from him.

“Oh, well. I’ll be seeing you soon then!” The man said, tipping his hat to Nathaniel.

And then he woke up.


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Old 3 Weeks Ago, 01:22 AM
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The Final Watchman
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Atlantean Royal Mansion, Boston, England

November 22nd, 2012

"Ugh," Ruby moaned as she lay upside down on her bed, head lolling backwards down the side of her bed as she waited for Roxxy to finish choosing her revealing attire for the day. It was like this almost everyday for Ruby, waiting for Roxxy to get changed, she didn't even understand why she hung around considering Roxxy's ability to make friends with just about anyone in the mansion. In her mind Ruby figured that hanging out with Roxxy wouldn't do her too much harm; she certainly met a lot of the other students in the mansion and it wasted time between classes and training.

Roxana quickly went about choosing her outfit for the day. It seemed that in the month that she'd been there, all Genevieve seemed to do was complain about the time it took her to do so. In truth, she was probably right, but she never did leave without her. Roxxy merely attributed Ruby's complaints to being bored, but it wasn't her problem anyway. In a matter of minutes though, she was dressed in a full outfit, perfect for the cold day. With her signature black jean jacket, she wore a stunning navy blue blouse with skinny jeans and silver buckled boots. Grabbing a nice, line-patterned peach scarf to top it all off, she turned towards her roommate. "So, what is we're supposed to do today?" Hopefully, I won't after to answer questions like yesterday, she thought.

"You should really keep a track of classes, Roxxy," to be honest Ruby didn't even know the class schedule herself but kept a copy of one another student had copied for her. Still hanging her head upside down, she brought the scrap of paper from her pocket and in front of her vision. "Ummm," she scanned the paper for today, shifting her eyes down the column until she spotted their first class for today, "looks like we have Combination Class with Mister Evans out on the field." From what she knew of the class, Justin took it and everyone did it once a week.

"Combination class, huh?"

Placing her hands on the floor below her head, Ruby pushed herself in a handstand off her bed, ignoring her skirt which fluttered down her body to reveal her red underwear. She pushed her blood forward within her body as she almost toppled back over, causing her to continue her handstand and land her feet on the floor."Yeah y'know, that class where we learn to fight together." Slipping her feet into shoes at the end of her bed, she motioned for Roxxy to go ahead of her out the door.

"Oh, I know the class," the brown-haired girl replied as she walked out. "It just doesn't mean that I want to go. I do have to say though, that headstand worked well for you." She smiled as she walked down the hall beside the girl. It was a short ways to the field, but luckily there was enough distance for the two to have somewhat of a conversation. "So who is the teacher supposed to be today?" She asked. The Royal mansion had plenty of teachers and to say the least, some were a lot more likeable than the others.

"Justin Evans, the guy who controls "wood"." Ruby brought her hands up signalling quotation marks in the air to insinuate he obvious sexual connotation. "He looks like that hot actor, Breckin Meyer." Surely Roxxy had been around the mansion and ARF long enough to know who the leaders were, but Ruby just assumed the girl couldn't be bothered remembering. Her mind soon drifted off as she pictured Justin in her mind, except that the Justin in her head didn't quite have a shirt on...

"The 'wood' joke has kinda gotten old, hasn't it? Anyways, I've never really thought that Breckin isn't that hot of an actor. There is definitely others who I would take any day." She gave a look towards the black-haired girl. She never knew how frequent these day dreams were, but to say the least, the odds were they were about most guys. Or girls... There's something to ask when we have the time, she thought. "So Ruby. How long have you been here with the Family. We've been roommates for awhile and yet, we really haven't talked about each other." It was true. She herself had been there for a matter of weeks and yet she seemed to know nothing about the people in the school. She knew that the Family sucked at running the place, but nothing else.

"Yeah, true that," Ruby mused, mulling the thought over. As much as the two had shared a room and hung out within the same group of people, she barely knew anything of Roxxy's life outside of the mansion. "I've been here since mid-August, I came in with a couple of others after the Family rescued us. Do you..." Ruby paused, unsure of whether or not it was a good subject to broach, "do you still have family out there?" To her it sounded like 'out there' was an entirely different planet altogether.

"No one important." Looking back on her life, she only ever knew her parents. They themselves has kept apart from her extended family and the reasons had never quite been explained. She honestly wondered how they were doing, but at the same time, she couldn't help but not care. Two years was enough time to get over them. "I left a couple years ago and I haven't looked back. How about you? A lot of the kids talk about their parents or siblings at one point or another. Yet, I've never heard you mention them once?" She could tell it was a hard topic to touch, but if she asked it, what could it hurt?

"Never met them, my biological parents that is. I was in foster homes till what I think was my 14th birthday, then I ran away." Despite her hardship, Ruby didn't find it hard to talk about her life before the ARF; as far as she was concerned this was as much her home now as anything else. It wasn't like she was proud of not having a family, more so that it just didn't bother her all that much. "When did you find out about your ability?" She asked Roxxy, knowing full well that asking about someone's ability was a private thing to do, but then again they had both just opened up about their families.

Roxana laughed. She had forgotten some member of the Royal Family obtained their powers before the reveal, not that she was one of those cases. "Me?" She gave a smirk as she talked. "I found out when these all-powerful 'leaders' of ours revealed us to the world. Luckily, I was at one of the malls in Barcelona. I had just entered one of changing rooms when that damn tattoo shot up my back." She knew the girl had seen her tattoo a million times, not that she could recall seeing Ruby's. "How about you? The same time as me, or did you suffer with it before all of this mess?"

"It happened just before I came here. This old, blind man came along and touched me with this weird, blue crystal. Told me I was Atlantean. Of course, didn't believe a word he said until I cut myself on a piece of tin and the blood stopped flowing out and back in. Then this kid nearby went total psycho with his ability and yeah, the Family brought me back here." Ruby shivered as she recalled the boy's metamorphosis and how he had almost gutted her like a fish. "Back then there were only about fifteen or twenty students. After the reveal though, this place slowly filled."

"A random blind man?" The girl shivered at thought. "I honestly would've hit anyone who did that. It sounds like some perv would have just been attempting to fondle you or something." No matter the case, it was weird. Some way, that man knew she was an Atlantean before she did. How? "Did you ever see him again? Ever hear about him?"

"No, no I didn't..." Ruby trailed off as she saw a figure making their way down the hall. The last time she remembered seeing the guy was when they had all bailed before the cops arrived at the bar fight, was it... Austin? "Hey!" She called out to him as he drew near, "where are you off to in a hurry?"

"Oh, I was just uh...going to see Nate, have you seen him today?"

Ruby cracked up laughing, "Honey, you don't go and see Nate, at least in the mornings. Him and Antonia are an item now, they need their privacy." Ruby flicked her long black hair behind her shoulder, "why don't you come join us for Combo Class?"

Austin blinked, not really seeing the problem with visiting Nate, and anyway it was important. But it was pretty early, and Nate was most likely still dreaming.

"Yeah, sure!" Austin said with a smile. Roxxy was pretty hot now that he thought about it. Combination class might not be a bad idea after all if I'm going to be fighting anyone... He had a flashback to his training sessions with Antonia and twinged with regret at his missed opportunity.

Roxxy merely shrugged at Austin coming with. She hadn't talked to him much and he honestly didn't seem like the best company, especially after hearing Garrett and Kaido talk about his... Outbursts. Of course, they were just going to class, how could having him tag along hurt? "So Austin, it's nice to meet you. I'm Roxana." Her Spanish accent stood out when compared to their two different kinds.

"Oh right, you two have never met before, Austin, this is Roxxy. Roxxy, Austin." She signalled between the two, introducing them despite Roxxy having introduced herself before hand.

Austin waved hello to Roxxy when she was introduced to him. Luckily he wasn't awkwardly following the girls for too long. They made it to class shortly after.

It seemed like only a few students decided to turn up today; twelve in total and the three of them raised the number to fifteen. Ruby briefly greeted some of the other students she knew before moving into a spare space with Roxxy and Austin. All the students were set up in groups of two, and Ruby counted herself unlucky for having come with both Roxxy and Austin.

But just then, Austin caught a glimpse of Antonia walking down the hallway through a window. He turned to the girls and frowned.

"Uh, hey, I just remembered I have to uh, go do something. Err, see you later. Or not," he said. Without an answer, he quickly turned and left to go back inside after Antonia, and through her Nate.

"Good Morning," Ruby could see Justin's breath escaping his lips in a cloud of smoke as he spoke, "Since everyone has partners we can get straight into it. The idea of today's class is to work together with each other; sometimes you may not have your team-mates nearby and being able to adapt to other's fighting styles and abilities may be the difference between life and death." Justin almost sounded like Garrett during their 'Royal Guard' training sessions, and both seemed to be taking this 'world on the brink of change' think too serious. "First half of the lesson, you'll be required to convene in your teams and figure out how you'll all fight and start training to do so. Second half will require you to team up against another team."

Ruby nodded in agreement before looking across at Roxxy standing next to her. She wasn't quite sure how the two of them were going to compliment each other in a fight but they must be able to do something.

While Ruby had no idea on what to do, Roxana had already began to think up a plan. Luckily for her, many of the students here weren't kinetics (Or at least from what she could tell). This really gave her the opportunity to use her power to it's full ability, but how would Ruby's and her own complement each other? "Ruby, you can control blood right? What is the extent of your ability?"

"Uh, what do you have in mind?" She asked Roxana cautiously looking over her shoulder at the other pairs looking more confident in their partner choices.

"I can more or less absorb damage and use it to enhance my own abilities," she explained quickly. From the looks of it, most teams seemed sure of their plans. "Anytime, I'm hit or cut, I get stronger. Sometimes, it can take more time to reach a good point. Often enough, it takes longer with elemental powers. It seems that we lucked out in that department. I may need you to cover for me while I build up, but it also really depends on what you can do."

"Could we like, super charge you before the fight? If I attack you now, could you hold onto that damage enhancement till we fight? or would it just like, drain away?" Ruby looked down at her hands, feeling the blood pulse through her veins. Her body could produce more at a moments notice when she needed it, but use too much blood and she could faint.

"Typically, the enhancement lasts awhile. It depends on how much damage I take though. I can absorb damage, but not all of it. Right now, I can only take in about fifty percent of the attack, but nothing. You hitting me a few times could easily help, but the question is, is it enough?"

"We'll only know if we try. Where would you like me to hit?" Ruby smiled, she never had the chance to properly hit someone before.

"I'm telling you now, it probably won't do much." Ruby wasn't the best of partners for a physical attacker, but she would make due somehow. With a sigh, she pointed towards her arm. She partly knew it wouldn't help too much, but why not give her a try?

Feeling the girl hit her, however, put a sour look on Roxxy's otherwise pretty face. Just as expected, Ruby's punches did barely anything. There wasn't even a chance that it would help at all. "We may have to rely on me taking a few hits during the exercise," she told her. She had fought long enough beside Nix and Antonia to know a few tricks here and there. It looks like she knew what she needed to rely on.

"Okay, I think I have an idea." Ruby ran the idea through her mind, hoping that it would work. "If you let me, I could create a kind of 'second skin' from your coagulate blood. I would only need enough to cover the top of your hands which would allow you to punch harder." Ruby was unsure if it meant Roxxy was going to take less damage and then be less likely to power up. "What do you think?"

"I don't think that will help." She told her bluntly. There was no way clotting up blood over her hands would make her "punch harder." Well, I guess there was a reason she lost so quickly to Nate, she thought. Ruby was pretty and nice, but to be entirely honest, she may be useless in a fight.

"Alright everyone," Justin summoned them in closer Ruby feeling bad for dragging Roxxy down, "the first half of our class is over, so let's get to it. The fight will be over when either team calls 'truce' or I decide the fight has gone on longer than necessary. Ruby and Roxxy, you two will be up first against Jake and Chrysta."

Ruby watched as Jake and Chrysta walked up confidently to stand opposite her and Roxxy. From what she had seen during their training Jake could control paper and Chrysta's spinning was deadly. Looking behind her at Roxxy, Ruby pleaded with her eyes that Roxxy forgive her for being so bad. "If I can get close, I might be able to take out Jake." They had no time to plan out their attack now; all they could do was improvise. Biting down on her tongue, Ruby winced as the pain jolted her system, yet she kept on biting until she felt the warm flow of blood in her mouth.

"Good, because we need to go for Paperboy over there," Roxxy told her partner as she looked at her opponents. Had she been with her teammates, things would've already been going smoothly. "He can get us from this far. The closer we get, the better." Without warning, Chrysta began rotating, slowly at first and using her foot to build up momentum, until she was spinning like a spinning top. Then the onslaught started. From behind her paper began firing into her back, only to be picked up by the momentum and spun, arcing around Chrysta's body and flying directly towards the two girls.

Pulling the blood from her mouth, Ruby soon had a decent handful of it before willing the wound on her tongue to coagulate with blood. If she ever needed it again, she could easily utilise it again. From her hand, small balls slightly bigger than a marble began forming until she had a dozen coagulated balls of blood resting in her hand. "Roxxy, get me as close as you can!" she spoke over the paper whistling around them, "I can use their own tactics against them."

Roxana laughed at the thought of Ruby attempting to tell her what to do, but got in front of the weaker girl, putting her arms in front of her face. If they were going to do this right, they needed to do it smart. Of course, the paper did nothing major. Here and there she felt a scratch, but for the most part, none of it even ripped her clothes. Or at least until it hit her leg, where she easily felt the cold air against her skin as she ran. He's going down.

As they got closer, Ruby peaked out the side of Roxxy's body, if her view of Jake was obscured by both Chrysta and Roxxy, then his view of her was the same. Leaning out, a dart skipped past her, nipping at her ear and causing a small amount of blood to trickle out. Ignoring the throbbing pain, she began picking each ball up one by one having them hover in her hand before carefulling making them fly towards Chrysta. The balls were small enough that they would have beep tiny blips on her radar, and so she let them fly, arcing around Chrysta and pelting Jake with the hard, condensed balls of coagulated blood.

When she heard Jake cry out in pain, she took that as her cue to leave Roxxy to dispatch Chrysta while she secured Jake. Running around the otherside of Roxxy, Ruby edged around Chrysta's rotating body and on towards where Jake was now sprawled on his knees. By the looks of it, her balls had hit him below the belt. Gathering the balls back into her hand and summoning more blood from her mouth, Ruby fashioned two small spikes, kicking Jake backwards and effectively pinning him to the ground through his shirt.

Letting Ruby do her own thing, Roxxy took the time to tackle the spinning girl, who wasn't moving fast enough to do any real damage. Taking a few hits before being sent back, she began looking for any opening. She could easily keep tackling her, but that would get old fast. Instead, she let herself tackle one more time. Quickly, she received the same results, but as she was sent back, she smoothly positioned herself on the ground and let a foot head towards the Chrysta in a sweeping motion. The girl had no idea what hit her as she fell to the ground.

"Fight over," Justin called from the side lines, the rest of the class clapping as Ruby broke her spears off, leaving what blood was buried in the ground there and feeling the blood return to her body.

Roxxy smiled and put a hand out towards Chrysta, who politely accepted.

Ruby did the same, holding a hand out she offered to help Jake up off the ground, which he seemed all too happy to accept. Only it backfired on her, Jake pulling Ruby to the ground before pushing himself up off the ground. "Don't you ever touch me with your filthy power again!" he spat before storming off towards the mansion.

Almost immediately, Roxana walked after him. "Jake," She called once with no answer. "Paperboy!"

This time, the boy turned around with a wide smirk on his face. "And what do you want pretty girl?" It sounded like he was trying to act tougher than he was and for a moment Roxana laughed, clenching her fist.

"Pretty girl," she said with a sarcastic smirk just before catching up to him. "Is that really all you can come up with?" Her fist connected with his stomach before even finishing her sentence. Watching as he clutched his stomach, she lifted his chin slightly. "That one was for being rude and this one'll be for my outfit that I put so much time into this morning." Not even moving her hand, she slapped him as hard as she could with the other. He was probably unconscious before he hit the ground.
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Old 2 Weeks Ago, 05:55 AM
Retro Bug
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Renegades Flat, London, England

November 22th, 2012

Light crept into the room and made its way to the collection of pillows, blankets, papers, and paint, which stirred upon feeling its touch. Previously, the windows had been boarded up with wooden panels, most likely for this reason alone. It bothered Marwa very little, she rose from the floor, also known as the place where she had a tendency to fall asleep, covered in her various art supplies and research materials. Flecks of dried paint dotted the corners of her face, that, and every bit of clothing she wore over the past nine days. Her ability worked no matter what artistic style she utilized to create the image, as of late she had an overwhelming urge to paint and so that is what Marwa did day in and day out. Raguel had generously supplied a lot, if she were to run out Marwa was confident that Scott and Enrique could be recruited into doing this favor. There was doubt that they would hesitant to gather her more as it gave them an excuse to cause ruckus out in the world, not that they needed one. However, there wasn’t a need to do that, Marwa hadn’t become wasteful with her paint. In fact, she had become so meticulous that every stroke was noted, and, yes, she counted all eight thousand four hundred and ninety-three of them. Perfection wasn’t an easy task by any means yet somehow Marwa had achieved it.

Outside the door was howling and screaming and ability use, a daily occurrence. None of those that occupied the house got along that well, especially when they were all in the same room. Amazingly everything still ran smoothly and not one to want to risk changing the house dynamics Marwa kept to the background. A simple task indeed, sometimes the others would want her to weigh in on their disagreement(s) but Marwa would smile and decline. On her fingers she could count the number of words she had spoken since that embarrassing incident with Andre… His presence was still the most difficult to be around. She did everything in her power to stay away from him, which turned out to be easier than expected. Many of the days she spent in her room where no one bothered her.

Budapest would be an entirely different ballgame than Qatar. Plenty of research had gone into this attack on Marwa’s part, whatever Andre or Pietr’s plans were she knew very little. Beasts lurked on the pages of her canvas, soon they would be able to paint a city red. Marwa picked at the dried paint until she stood in front of the mirror to properly wash it off. With the bathroom clear Marwa suspected that everyone else had already sat down for breakfast, a meal she had successfully avoided since she had gotten there. Constant companionship was something she hadn’t fond of just yet and there were just too many things happening for Marwa to keep up with.

Marwa bent over and shuffled together the seemingly random pieces of paper, they were research on the Atlantean activity that had happened for the past month. Once that task had been completed she scrubbed the paint off of her face until the area was raw. Marwa rolled up her prayer mat that she had left out after Fajr, a last minute thought persuaded her to take it with. She supposed that she didn’t have to hide her religious side, but Marwa wasn’t willing to present anything that might cause a rift between her and the more liberal Renegade members. A shrug was all she had left to give on that matter and Marwa proceeded downstairs where the rest of the team waited. Slung over her right shoulder was a backpack where several of her paintings and scrolls were contained, the larger rolled paintings stuck out of the largest potion as their length was too long to fit.

Eventually conversations naturally ceased, everyone was aware of their individual and group missions, Raguel would not be pleased if they failed. Scott opened a portal, Nora and Enrique stepped through it together after the obligatory goodbyes and good lucks, and they were off to ravage the Vatican. Another portal was summoned for Pietr, Andre, and Marwa, Budapest was their city to pillage. The second time through the portal wasn't much better than the first time, it still made her feel dizzy afterwards.

~ ~ ~

Andre shivered as he stepped through the doorway. Going from the warmth of the flat straight into the freezing cold morning air of Budapest was a little shock to the system. Shoving his gloved hands in his armpits, Andre watched his breath escape his mouth and float up into the air while he waited for Pietr and Marwa to make their way through. Looking around, Andre noted that Scott had opened the door to what appeared to be the Central Business District of Budapest; looking across to a twin building, he was sure that Scott had hit his mark and delivered them to the Four Seasons Hotel Gresham Palace Budapest.

With only a nod of his head, Pietr ran towards the lip of the building, not slowing down before he jumped from the edge. As soon as he was airborne, his BASE-jumping wing-suit flew into action; the material unfurling as he spread his arms wide during the jump. Andre watched him disappear beyond the lip of the building and appear gliding down towards the street in the distance.

"Pietr will give us the signal, then you can start." He turned to address Marwa whom had been the last to arrive through the portal, "are you nervous?"

The coldness nipped at Marwa's face forcing her to adjust her hijab, this was one of her favorites, it was striped and two-toned, yellow and gold. By nervous she knew he meant about the mission and the answer to that was, "No." But there was nervousness lingering inside her except it had nothing to do with the mission and everything about her current companion. What if he brought up their last conversation... Her only resort was to keep him talking about other subjects. "How are you alive?" Marwa tried not to fixate on the injured side of his face, but if what the papers had recorded about Andre's supposed death were to be believed he should've suffered far worse than that.

"It was luck," Andre figured she must have been a bit at ease with half his face not to mention half his body was one giant burn. "I was at a prearranged meeting with Pietr, we needed to fake my death to the point where no one would ask questions. My brother and his friends knew nothing of my second ability, so before Pietr exploded, I turned myself into glass." Holding his hand out in the air between them, Andre pulled off his glove and showed Marwa the scared hand that turned briefly into glass then back. Replacing the glove he returned his hand to his armpit before continuing, "When Pietr exploded I was blasted apart and scattered throughout the shop. It took me a while, but I managed to piece myself back together, shard-by-shard, before anyone was able to make their way to the epicentre. Pietr and I escaped back to the flat, but as we made our way out a car exploded to my left, burning half my body." His skin tingled as the feeling of the fire burning off his skin was etched into his memory.

"Oh," Marwa replied. She felt as if it was a bit excessive that Andre faked his own death instead of just leaving like that girl, Rose (she believed?), he had mentioned. She could've questioned that but instead she felt that was minimal compared to the rest of the story that he told her. Such as the second ability part, as far as Marwa knew no Atlantean was able to have more than one, right? That's what all her research had told her. "Second ability...?" Marwa watched as his hands shifted from burnt flesh into glass proving that he indeed had another power beside his known Felinae Morphology. "If you were glass, shouldn't you have melted?" Marwa questioned, an explosion like that would've reached a dangerously high temperature, definitely enough to liquefy glass.

"I should have," Andre definitely counted himself lucky after that day, "Pietr's explosions are what is called 'Entropic Explosions'; in which there is a large change in volume without the typical release of a large amount of heat." Andre had trusted that Pietr was right about his own ability, after all the man was a scientist, but just hearing the word 'explosion' brought flames and heat to mind. In the end, he was alive now, and that's what really mattered.

"Any other questions?" Andre let out a nervous laugh, after retelling the story, still unsure how to feel about the event that happened over a month ago.

"How do you have two abilities?" Marwa asked her next pressing question, slowly she went down the mental checklist of questions that had arisen while Andre spoke. "Everything I've read said Atlanteans only have access to one."

"I'll show you," he motioned for her to extend to him her arm. When she had, he gasped the inside of her arm, up near the elbow, "It's done skin-on-skin, with both participants holding each other like so." He referenced how he was holding her before letting go. "The party giving the ability has to want to give it away; and act of full commitment otherwise it won't work. However, the person taking it only has to accept the ability being given to them. It takes a minute or two, but you'll feel the power, the energy racing through your arm and soon you'll have a new tattoo and ability." He pulled the neck of his jacket down to reveal a circle tattoo that looked like it had been shattered.

Andre tilted his head from side to side, cracking his neck in the process, "It's not a well known process; only a few people outside of the Renegades know how to do so. The book I got it from was in some old section of the library back at the Mansion."

Thankfully, her intense interest for this subject didn't allow her to dwell long on his touch. This was definitely something she wanted to do more studying on. Was there a limit to how many powers one could have? Was this the only way to transfer abilities? There were so many questions yet she knew she didn't want to barrage Andre with all of them. If only she could get her hands on that book...

"Who gave you that ability?" Marwa hoped that was an innocent question, hopefully not too prying. Another one dawned on her that she should've asked prior to the one she just stated, regardless Marwa still spoke it, "Are those the only abilities you have?"

"Yeah, haha," he laughed at the line of questioning she had directed at him, not that he minded much, "those are the only two I have. The Glass ability; that was a gift from a friend. It's a long story, too long for today I'm afraid." As he turned around to the waking city, Andre noticed the explosion over the Danube River as the iconic Chain Bridge fell into the freezing water below. "Alright, you're up, Marwa."

For the first time Marwa looked out onto the city that stood before them, it would never be the same after today, but that wasn't a bad thing. Its inhabitants were just raising for the day, not yet the bustling city that it could be. Soon the bridge collapsed as a signal from Pietr, Marwa knew it was no longer the Pearl of the Danube. How many would suffer the river's wrath? The number would never be enough to make up for what the world was doing to Atlanteans. It was a start, however. Marwa slid the backpack off of her shoulders and moved it to the ground in front of her where she had begun to kneel. Then she took out a few medium-sized stones and gently placed them on the edges of the painting. Qatar had made headlines, but Budapest would dominate them. In the EU it had the most Atlantean Centers, was one of the largest cities, and one of the most popular tourist destination. There was nothing more the world loved than a good show and Marwa was about to give them one the size of Paris.

Faith was instrumental in hauling Marwa through the start of this process and inevitably a prayer was necessary before continuing on to such a pivotal moment in history. Whatever today resulted in she would need Allah's blessing and forgiveness. Though, it wasn't restricted to her faith in Allah and all that he stood for, but also her faith in Atlanteans. That they would take in this circumstance with open arms and mold it to better equip themselves against those that would do them harm. Humans needed to know that Atlanteans will not be subjected to the anymore of the vile abuse and their reign of dictatorship was over.

The breath that she held in was released along with a prolonged sigh. All of her concentration must be firmly focused on the three paintings she had laid in front of her. Her clothes ruffled in the slight breeze, the cold eager to touch her bare skin. To summon these creatures would drain a lot of her energy. Ever since Qatar this is the very moment Marwa had been waiting on, all of the practice had to pay off now. The middle painting began to react first, it was by far the biggest of the trio and had the most exotic coloring. Blues, Reds, Greens, and Oranges were the most prominent on the page. A set of ivory white claws lifted from the paper they were painted on. The rest of the painting ripped itself from its former home and disappeared into the skies above, the only trace of it was an echoing roar.

Both paintings that remained followed suit and leapt off their respective papers and fled into the clouds above. Anxious to see her masterpieces animated and fully functioning Marwa stood at the edge of the building they were on and watched them create absolute chaos. Her first conjured painting was by far the largest and certainly the most likely to instill fear in the hearts of the citizens of Budapest. The winged-beast was truly a magnificent sight to marvel at as the sunlight highlighted the hues of green and blue in its iridescent scales. Not all parts of the monster were gifted with the scales such as its underbelly, which extended to the inner most parts of its legs and tail, underneath its feet, and wings. The body of the reptilian creation was bulky, so much so that its forelimbs resembled a trunk of a giant sequoia tree. Its wingspan was proportional to the length of its body and that was about 10 meters. Spikes that were black in color ran rampant on the beast, small ones covered the outermost portions of its wings and the much larger ones travelled down from head to tail.

It was a creature designed to be capable of mass destruction and it had immediately begun to do so once it had grounded itself. Each time it moved its legs they smashed into nearby building decimating them in seconds. Debris flew in every direction when it flapped its wing and so did chunks of human flesh. Restless was its tail as it swiped back and forth crashing into anything and everything within range. It didn’t take long for the beast to bulldoze through shops, homes, Atlantean Centers, and anything that was erected in its path. From time to time a concentrated stream of intense, bright orange flames erupted from its mouth, drowning the entire block in flames. How would the citizens of Budapest deal with their very own dragon?

One of Marwa’s other creations caught her attention with the ruckus it was creating near the fallen Chain Bridge. It was a combination of two kings, the king of the beasts and the king of the birds. The head, wings, and talons attached to its front legs were that of an eagle while its body, tail, and hind legs were that of a lion. Griffins were majestic yet ferocious creatures and this one wasn’t an exception. A last minute influence had changed the color scheme of this creature, instead of golden lion parts she had decided upon shades of deep purples and colored its eagle feathers a slate gray. Unfortunately for those that resided in Budapest it hadn't been feed breakfast so it hunted down and devoured those who dared to lurk outside.

Another creature flew right in front of Marwa; it had the haunches of a lion, the wings of a bird, and the face of a human. Out of the three this one would received the most media attention, well, Marwa sure hoped. This part of the plan she hadn’t run passed Raguel or any of the Renegades for that matter. Humans would need to put a face to this incident and here she was giving them one on a silver platter. She had spent an entire day on the face; the amount of paparazzi images she went through to get the perfect compilation of features was exasperating. In the end all three hundred and fifty seven strokes were worth it. Marwa wondered how Andre would react seeing his brother’s face flying around the city. Leo the Sphinx, it didn’t have the nicest ring to it but Marwa was far from caring about that aspect. Half a body lingered in Leo’s mouth and blood smeared the edges of it. It landed on one of the newest Atlantean Centers and let out a blood-curdling screech, Marwa watched as her other two creatures stopped what they were doing and responded with their own gut-wrenching screams.

Budapest was being slathered with the blood of those within. Marwa casted her thoughts to three separate locations in the city, all ones she had done extensive research on. First was the largest church in Budapest, St. Stephen’s Basilica that was only a few blocks from their location. Its pillars were noticeable from where she stood. Off flew her first creature with flames spewing from its mouth the entire way. The destination for her most regal monster was to attend to the Central European University, she watched as it soared through the air. Danube Promenade was the final place where terror was to take place and her second hybrid creature took off toward it. After this incident Budapest would never be recognizable as each of its landmarks were to be stripped from it and crushed into non-existence.

From her bag Marwa retrieved several smaller scrolls, which allowed her to call forth the pawns of this army, zombies, knights, vampires, werewolves, and other fictitious humanoid creatures that sprung into action. As soon as she was done Marwa knew she had overstepped her safety boundaries, blood poured from her nose and with each cough she spat out more. Her body was racked with pain prior to it all going numb. Before she became more familiar with the stone streets beneath her something stopped her descent, Andre. Marwa felt comforted as he laid her backwards, she turned toward his face and watched as his lips moved but a trio in the sky above caught her attention. They circled each other like some sort of ritualistic dance before diving downward to finish the destruction they had started.
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Old 2 Weeks Ago, 11:06 PM
Skymin's Avatar
the Knight
Join Date: Sep 2006
Location: london
Age: 21
Nature: Quirky

Atlantean Unification Project Headquarters, Toulouse, France

November 22nd, 2012

Oakley woke, consciousness hitting her like a tonne of bricks. At first, she forgot where she was, expecting to wake up in her old room back in her father’s house, or perhaps even back in the large, warm bed of the Librarian’s “house”. The white walls of her room at the AUP didn't make her feel comfortable like her other homes of the past month had been. Atticus had told her she could do what she wanted with the room (other than completely destroy it), it was her own space now. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't. Despite the length of time she had been with the AUP (just over a week), her stay here still felt temporary. Like anything could happen, and she would have to get up and leave at any moment.

It was then when the previous night fell on her, remembering the “World Changers”, Selephial, Lucifer and the Library. It felt so real, as if she had really been there with all of the others, but knowing she had only woken up moments before made her brain feel hazy and confused. Or perhaps that was just because she was confused in the first place.

A quick question or statement to either Dom, Thayne or Del would confirm if the night before was just her brain’s subconscious reflecting her anxiety or if it did actually happen, but honestly… she didn't want to believe it was true. That she had been “chosen” or some garbage. To be forced against some who she considered her friends, plus her brother (which was another thought for another day), for a reason that hadn't been mentioned or specified… She just wanted it to all go away. For the world to return to what it had been, or at least a peaceful Atlantean world… that’s what she wanted.

Well, it wasn't like she was going to get it anytime soon, anyway. She’d have to stick with what she had.

She pulled off her pyjamas, pulling on some red sweater and a pair of jeans somebody had given to her. When she felt presentable enough, she poked her head out the door into the long hallway, only to be surprised by an amount of ruckus. A few other members, none that she had met entirely, quickly stepped down the hallway to the elevator as if they were in a rush. Oakley stared at them, hoping to get some clue on what was going on, but a familiar face seemed to solve that issue. She called out to him.

“Atticus!” She stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind her. He stopped, looking back at her. He was frowning, perhaps nervous or just impatient, but waited for Oakley to ask her question. “What’s going on?”

“Trouble.” He said, but elaborated. “There was an explosion in Budapest. It looks like someone’s attacking.”

“Like Paris?!”

“Yeah, kinda.” He looked to the end of the hallway, then back at Oakley, his impatience growing higher. He shook his head and beckoned her. “Just come to the brief. Everything will be explained there.”

Oakley nodded and followed him, down the hall, into the elevator with other AUP members and down into the briefing room. Oakley recognised this room from when they had when they had briefed for the mission on the boat. Where Thayne had been found. Instead of Atticus at the front, it was Emil, with Cooper standing by his side. The Librarian was also there, looking chipper, sitting behind the two with a cup of tea in his hands.

It looked as if they were the last to enter the room, though the room itself was pretty empty. Thirty to forty AUP members were seated, eyes on Emil. Oakley recognised a few of them -- Freddie and Julian next to each other (Atticus taking his seat next to them), Natalia, as serious as usual with a red-headed girl next to her and Misha next to her, as well as Imogen looking rather disgruntled on the back wall, leaning against it. There were a few newer faces Oakley recognised from Lindholm, looking attentive and excited (at least Simon was), as well as Delta, Dom, Thayne and Elpis as they wandered in.

Oakley noticed Devon, sitting towards the back and took her seat next to him. He still had a difference that Oakley couldn't put her finger on, but didn't mention it, silently waving to him. He acknowledged her with a nod, but turned back towards his father as he began to speak.

“Just before nine o'clock this morning, there was an attack on Budapest. First, the Chain Bridge was destroyed, and soon after, attacks of… beasts of Atlantean nature, hostile against anything in the city.” Devon glanced at his watch, Oakley following his eyes. It was around 9:15am. “Unfortunately, there are not as many members here to engage as there were in Paris, but those nearby have been contacted and are on their way if their own mission is not an emergency. Due to travel time, the Librarian has offered to teleport us to Budapest.”

“It’s on my way.” He smiled, standing and taking his place next to Emil and nodding at the group. “It’s the least I can do for you lovely people.” Cooper narrowed his eyes at him, unimpressed.

“An incident of this size could very quickly escalate to that of Paris, but luckily we have time on our side. We will be split up into groups and attempt to apprehend and capture the thread, and if possible,” his eyes glanced over Elpis, “remove their ability. But capture is indeed the priority. Now, gear up and head to the plane. We will teleport the plane, then fly back as the Librarian is previously engaged. Be ready as soon as you can.” The Librarian earned another set of narrowed eyes from Cooper, though Emil himself seemed grateful for the help. The members started to move, shuffling from their seats.

“Are you going?” She turned to Devon. He nodded back. “Your Dad isn't bothered?”

“He doesn't seem to care much nowadays.” Devon shrugged. It didn't seem to worry him. Not on the outside anyway. “Besides, I got my rock. Let’s get going.”
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Old 1 Week Ago, 08:16 PM
revlis's Avatar
The Sentinel
Community Supporter
Join Date: Sep 2009
Location: Syndicate HQ
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Nature: Modest

Presidential Suite, Hilton Hotel, San Diego, California, United States

November 22nd, 2012

Lucas’ eyes had clouded over as he stood overtop James’ resting head; his fingers lightly hovering over the boy’s temple. Once each of the World Changers had stepped through the dreamscape portal into the Library of Souls, he said goodbye to his sister before pulling the dreamscape from her head. He had to take a step back as his vision returned to normal and his soul returned to his body. Bringing his fingers up to his own temples he began massaging it trying to reduce the throbbing that had started there. Lately he had been experiencing these minor headaches following the use of his power despite his millennia spent learning its every facet. Perhaps this child Atlantean’s electrical prowess was messing with his own brain. Nether less, he stepped away from James’ sleeping body in one of the guest bedrooms and headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

After his late night call, Mitchell had honed onto James’ whereabouts via the GPS in the phone Lucas had gifted him; picking the comatose boy up from his hiding spot on the roof of a nearby apartment building. He had little injuries that Mitchell couldn’t repair with their limited medical supplies in the Presidential Suite. While Mitchell had set to work repairing the boy’s torn and battered body, which would heal eventually due to his Atlantean heritage, Lucas used him as a fulcrum to tether the other World Changers to his dreamscape. For years he had been playing this role while his brothers and sisters fought amongst themselves, but this year was going to be different. Finally he had a World Changer in his own pocket.

Drinking deeply from the glass, he finished it all in one go, filling the glass up again and taking another swig of water. Manipulating peoples dream states somehow always made him thirsty and he had yet to find the connection between the two. Even Gabriel whom had every power under the universe still could not explain it. Regardless, he had just set the timer on a bomb that had been two thousand years in the making. He wasn’t sure the others knew exactly what Gabriel was planning or even how long he had been planning such an event; they were too caught up in their petty fights with one another to see the bigger picture.

“Mitchell, bring me the dossier on the World Changers, would you?” Each member of their Atlantean family had received this folder of dossiers from Gabriel with information outlining each of the World Changers.

“Yessir,” Mitchell nodded to his employer before returning with a thick manila folder.

Opening up the folder, Lucas began spreading out the pages one by one so that each file was next to one another. On the front page of each dossier was a candid photo taken of each person followed by their names, height, weight, anything at all they needed to know about them was all contained within. Austin, Charlotte, Delta, Dom, James, Nate, Oakley, Thayne, Wyatt; certainly each one of them was a force to be recognised. Placing both Charlotte and Wyatt’s dossiers back into the folder, Lucas concentrated on the seven remaining; four World Changers and three Harbingers of Light. His eyes shifted from each file until finally resting on James’ which he had marked the header of with his name.

“Gabriel has definitely done his research this time around; these chosen ones seem like they’ll make for a good fight. Don’t you think, Mitchell?” Lucas asked without moving his gaze from the file.

“Certainly sir, I think you’ve chosen wisely with this one.” Mitchell obviously meaning the unconscious James lying in the guest bedroom.

Lucas pondered the thought for a moment, “I’m not too sure about that. He’s powerful; don’t get me wrong, but others like Mayor or Calaway or example are just as powerful. James is a loose cannon which makes him a lot more dangerous and a lot more unstable. He’ll do what he wants, how he wants and there is little I can do to guide that process.”

“So then why this one, sir?” Mitchell asked hesitantly.

“Firstly he fell into my hands; Gabriel mentioned that this generation would be held in Europe but somehow Hazen made his way back to America. Secondly, as dangerous and as unstable as Hazen is, it makes him the most willing to take out his opponents in any way possible.” Lucas flicked through the file on James; reading through the boy’s past and present.

“That sounds like a dangerous plan, sir. Who do you think the others will be the benefactors of?”

“Good question,” Lucas responded as he filed each dossier back into the manila folder; his dream based ability alerting him to the fact that James was now on the verge of waking. “Michael has a soft spot for his children, always has, so no doubt he’ll choose daddy’s little girl. I’m not so sure on the others.”

Handing the folder back to Mitchell, Lucas nodded at him to return it to the hidden draw beneath his desk. If James ever saw the files it would be considered a breach of their long standing rules. Even though they had never let him play before and now he was pushing his way into the game, he still had to adhere to the rules no matter how much he disliked them. There was a distinct honour between them when it came to sibling rivalries like these, and everyone stuck to this system. He stretched his arms in the air, enjoying the feeling of his muscles stretching out after not having used them for so long. He could feel his heart beat racing inside his chest, the excitement of joining this battle of the siblings firing him up. He knew just what he needed to do in order to get James to the final battle, and was more than happy to support James with whatever funds he would need.

“Aah, so nice to see you again, Mr. Hazen, how was your sleep?”

Vatican City State, Rome, Italy

November 22nd, 2012

Unlike Enrique, Nora didn’t have an infinite supply of wind at her disposal to call up on whenever she needed it. Over the previous week she had spent several excursions a day with Scott in tow to places like Hong Kong, Osaka, and Seattle. There she would intake as much Neon from the signs hanging around the place until she was practically brimming with it only to come back to England and release it during her training. Each day she could intake a little more Neon than the previous as she forced herself to hold in more until last night when she filled up for the last time. Now stepping through the magical door Scott had opened up between them and the back streets of the Vatican.

It was a lot warmer in the Vatican than had been in London, but the two of them had still wrapped up warm to evade the chill in the air. Like London, it was still the early hours of the evening but as the pair made their way towards the heart of the city they were surprised by the amount of tourists milling about.

“I don’t know about you, but this looks like it could be a lot of blood on our hands,” Enrique shivered as a cool breeze swept over them, envying Nora’s resistance to the draft.

“We’re here to wreak havoc, not murder people.” She commented on his sudden act of compassion, “if people get caught in the crossfire then they’re just unavoidable losses.” Nora wasn’t exactly cold-hearted, she was just doing her job that needed to be done.

“That’s one way to look at it,” Enrique summoned a small gust that picked up a lollipod from the hands of a small child and brought it over to himself. Smiling, he unwrapped the wrapper and popped the cherry candy in his mouth. “I dunno, juss not sure thisis wha she wan.”

Nora cringed in disgust at Enrique’s lack of manners, “Sounds like you’re ready to defect, wouldn’t wanna do that now when you’re so close to these…” taunting Enrique, Nora pulled on the hem of her top, revealing more of her already revealed chest.

“Nora, you tempt me too much, make me go muy loco!” He let out a laugh that seemed to come from his stomach.

“I do what I can to keep you boys in line. Now, I’m pretty sure this is it.”

The road soon opened up into a large square; monolith rising to the sky in the middle of a fountain while a large building surrounded them on three sides. Tour guides and guards waited at entrances as people milled about in the courtyard looking like a flock of lost birds; all around they chattered in different languages and grouped together with one another. Both Enrique and Nora took a couple of minutes to stare at the beauty of the place before Nora’s phone interrupted their peace.

Checking the screen, she nodded at Enrique that indeed they had arrived at the right place; St Peters Square and that now it was time for them to get into action. Nora watched as Enrique summoned the wind around his body; at first lifting him so his toes just touched the ground and soon propelling him up into the sky. Nora retreated from the epicentre as the wind began to pick up and loose material started to become circling projectiles. From her safety undercover she watched people point and stare as Enrique hovered in the air, pointing with one hand while holding their belongings close to their bodies with the other. When his eyes began to glow that Godly golden colour the winds picked up more furiously as a tornado enveloped itself around Enrique’s glowing body.

Nora darted away from Enrique and his tornado, using some of her ability to hasten her dash across the city and away from his path of destruction. His main goal was to tear through the Vatican City before ripping apart the northern municipals of Rome as a distraction. As long as his conscience didn’t get the better of him, it would give Nora the time to find where the Librarian hid and secret out a particular book Raguel was after. Of course Raguel didn’t know where exactly her brother’s library was situated aside from somewhere in or around the Vatican otherwise she would have stormed it already.

Now standing atop the Basilica, Nora felt her hair, clothes and body all being pulled towards the rapidly advancing tornado. She looked down from her position at the gardens that layout behind her as people ran for their lives all through the gardens looking for sanctuary while the tornado began ripping through the Apostolic Palace just north of where Nora stood. She was so focussed on looking for some hidden entrance way that when the glass behind her shattered, she almost lost her balance and toppled through. Recovering quickly though, she ducked around the other side of the glass dome before tentatively peaking around for her assailant. With the amount of Atlanteans popping up all over the world, Nora figured that the Vatican must have had at least one or two not to mention the possible others in the surrounding Roman municipals.

Poking her head around the dome she caught sight of a man full dressed in his Cardinal outfit standing in the gardens before another projectile came sailing towards her head. Nora felt the cold metal shallowly slice her cheek as it went past, watching the wrought iron pole lose momentum as soon as it neared the tornado. Nora figured the man was using some sort of Kinetic manipulation to use the wrought iron fence behind him as deadly spears. Turning this exchange into a game, Nora summoned up three small bolts of her reserve neon between her palms strafing to her left to fire them at the cardinal before moving to her right, around the dome and sending three more in his general direction. Their sniper like duel last a few minutes before Nora took the man down with a large powered bolt of neon through his chest. Once the man had slumped to the ground, she resumed her initial task. With Enrique now heading out towards the nearest Roman municipal, Nora too her chance and darted behind him and into the wake of destruction that had previously been the Vatican Museum. If there was one thing the Librarian supposedly enjoyed, it was old things and a museum would be the perfect cover for a secret entrance.

Last edited by revlis; 4 Days Ago at 11:01 PM.
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Old 6 Days Ago, 03:53 AM
SV's Avatar
Moshi Moshi?
Join Date: Mar 2011
Gender: Male
Nature: Relaxed

San Diego, California, United States

November 22nd, 2012

"Hey," James greeted Lucifer with a small wave of his hand and a yawn. He stretched out a bit as he did this, still feeling a slight stinging sensation in the area where he was shot. Surprisingly though, it hurt a lot less than he anticipated it would. James wandered over to Lucas, proceeding to answer his question. "You know what, surprisingly pretty damn well considering the night before," He smirked at Lucifer, sitting down across from him at the table. He stared at the man for a moment, confirming to himself that he was indeed the one he saw in the dream. He had to make sure of one thing.

"That...wasn't just a dream? That did actually happen...right?"

"Correct." Lucas drunk deeply from his glass, eyeing James.

"Good, good," James replied happily. He allowed a small smile to come across his face for a moment, before once more eyeing Lucifer. He brought his elbows onto the table and crossed the fingers on each hand. From what he remembered in the dream, Lucifer encouraged them all to participate in the 'game'. "So me being here with you, what does that mean? Are ya betting on me?"

Lucas smiled widely, this boy was sharp, much sharper than he had previously anticipated. "Not quite betting, James. To put it simply, I am your Benefactor." Lucas couldn't reveal too much, that was part of the fun, but in the same token the boy would want to know more.

"Uh huh," James eyed the man skeptically. In truth, he had gotten the answer he was looking for. The man would back him in the World Changer game. That was all he wanted to confirm, and move on from there, but he was still curious about what Lucifer had to gain from that. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Why?"

"Why?" Lucas let out a laugh, "Why because you're the strongest, of course. You hold the highest potential out of all nine candidates and so, I chose you to support." Lucas certainly had a lot of money at his disposal; his siblings had been fighting for centuries, millennia, and being on the outside of it gave him the advantage of knowing when and where he needed to put his money to reap the highest rewards.

James continued to stare at the man with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. James wasn't sure if the man was telling the truth. Hell, he wasn't sure himself if he was the strongest Atlantean out of the bunch. But then, he didn't have to be. All he had to do was have the right resources, which he may very well have with Lucas. The goal for James, after all, wasn't to kill the others as they were probably fixing to kill him. He only needed them with him, or out of the way. The real target was what lay beyond. "I'm not really sure if you know what you're doing, or if you even know what I'm doing. And really, I don't care. You say you'll help so I'll accept your help. But you get in my way and I'll use every bit of resource you give me on you if I have to."

Lucas eyed James, seeing the malicious intent in his eyes; he may have been threatening Lucas but he meant every word. "Is that meant to be a threat, Hazen? I would caution you not to threaten a being such as myself. A being who could just as easily tear you down as could build you up." He may be giving James what he wanted, but in the end James needed him more than he did James. "This is a mutually beneficial partnership; you help me and I help you. But don't think that gives you the prerogative to think you're above me. You should be lucky to have me as your Benefactor. Got it?" Lucas slammed his hand against the table in anger, causing his glass to jolt to the side.

"Oh, I hear ya," James began, lifting his hands in the air in an apparent attempt to appease Lucas into calming down. "Don't think for a second I don't understand what you're doing for me. Even if I don't fully know what I'm doing for you. Probably something big I'm guessing, right?" James put his hands behind his head and rocked slowly on the two hind legs of his chair. "But waking up today...I feel..." James sighed deeply, trying to find the right words to explain his current state of mine. "...clarity. This is it right here," He declared, pointing to some imaginary spot along the table for emphasis. "No one's getting in the way of me now. Not that I'm guessing you will."

And if it does, the big will have to move aside for the bigger.

"That's good to hear. Nice to see your head is in the right place." Lucas walked around the bench so he was no longer opposite James and now standing a metre away leaning on the bench with his elbow. "Now do we need a repeat of last night or are you ready to get down to business?"

James shook his head and smirked back at the man besides him. "I need their names, their locations. I needa know who's backing them, and if possible, where they're gonna likely be." James stood up, pacing back and forth down the aisle as he went from scratching his chin to rubbing his shaved head. "If you can't get me that, I need you to find me an Atlantean that can. Oh!" He exclaimed, as he remembered another thing. "If I give you a list of others, can you could find them?"

"Woah woah," Lucas brought his hands up to his chest in a gesture trying to get James to settle down, "settle down there, cowboy, first things first, what is your plan? You can't just go full throttle without some sort of plan. You may fight without thinking but you have a month; plenty of time to organise yourself." He was glad that James was eager to get into it but if there was anything Lucas learnt from watching his siblings was that there was a time and place for everything.

"Pshh, we don't need to plan, we got the strongest Atlantean, right?" James asked teasingly. He then shook his head to let Lucas know he was joking, and continued. "That's why I wanna find the other guys. Other Atlanteans. I learned something a while back that's probably true no matter what ability you have," James turned down to observe his hand, watching a few sparks fly across his fingertips. "When I was...'training' in the Royal Family. No matter what you do, how hard you train, there's always gonna be some Atlantean that has your number one way or another. Even if I train my hardest this next month, which I will, someone's gonna have an advantage over me," James' eyes darted from his hands and traveled back up to Lucas. "But not if I have others with me. We Atlanteans gotta look out for each other."

James intended that statement for the others he would hopefully bring with him, but he also applied it to the other World Changers. He didn't have to kill them if he could help it. They weren't the problem. James walked over to Lucas, slapping him on the shoulder hard. "So you bet your damn ass I'm goin' full throttle. I need training, I need people, and I need some damn food. We only got a month to change the world, Lu! Let's f*ckin' get to it!"

"Okay!' Lucas cheered in excitement, somewhat encouraged by James' rousing speech. "Feel free to help yourself to anything in the fridge or pantry, Mitchell keeps it stocked up. As for the others, according to my sources everything is going down in Europe so the majority of them will be scattered there. If you're going to try and recruit them, you'll need to make sure you're ready to deal with them. You'll have time to do so, but for now we might as well stick around here until we have enough information."

"Excuse me sir, sorry for interrupting," Mitchell presented both Lucas and James with this mornings newspaper.

"ELECTRICAL MASSACRE IN SAN DIEGO" The title of the paper read; James' efforts last night having not gone unnoticed. Most of the page was taken up but this singular article with a picture of bodies lying in a residential street past police cordons. Below it was another picture of the back of someone's vest with the word 'ATLAS' in large letters emblazoned. It recounted the heroic actions of a new Atlantean team to counteract Atlantean terrorism.

"If you're after some practice and training, reckon you could entice these guys to visit us?" Lucas turned the paper around to show James, pointing at the picture with the ATLAS guy in it.

James leaned into the paper, reading what the ATLAS guys were about. His gazed traveled from the paper then back to Lucas. "ATLAS, huh? Are they Atlantean?"

"Far from it. They're a division of Homeland Security who deal with Atlantean threats within the United States. They're mostly humans except for the Atlanteans they employ to fight other Atlanteans; fire against fire tactics. They'll be good practice for fighting the others, and if you can take out their crack team of misfits, you'll cripple their main fighting system." Lucas looked James in the eyes, "You up for the challenge?"

James chuckled lightly. "Challenge? It won't be a challenge. Count me in."

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Old 3 Days Ago, 02:07 AM
revlis's Avatar
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Location: Syndicate HQ
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Syndicate HQ, Birmingham, England

November 22nd, 2012

“I can’t, they’ll kill me for doing it. Or worse!” As the elevator door opened Wyatt noticed Jeremy had his back turned to him whispering in a heated discussion with someone on the other end of the line. Wyatt wondered who Jeremy was calling at this time of the morning; like himself he shouldn’t be up for another twenty minutes.

Another minutes silence as the person on the other end spoke, Wyatt creeping quietly off to the side and into the kitchen in the corner. “Alright, fine then! You owe me big time for this, right? I swear if the Directive sends me down to R ‘n’ D I’ll scream your name at the top of my lungs.” Jeremy closed the phone, cancelling the call. Running his hands through his hair he jumped as he turned around to see Wyatt standing in the kitchen, a glass of water in hand.

“You all right there?” Wyatt asked trying to sound as innocent as possible.

“Sh*t Wyatt, don’t sneak up on people like that!” He started walking off towards the bedrooms, pausing for a moment before turning on his heels, “Don’t you say a word to anyone or I’ll teleport you outside the window.”

Wyatt’s jaw must have hit the floor; luckily it wasn’t his glass. He could see the bags forming under the guy’s eyes and knew that ever since they rescued him, Jeremy had been sleeping little. Whatever had happened to him back on the boat certainly did a number on the kid; his threat completely out of left field. Chucking back his glass of water, Wyatt headed towards the bedrooms; if he was already awake he should at least get a head start on the day. As he walked down the hall something felt different; glancing ahead he noticed Fletcher’s door ajar. Curious, he approached the door cautiously listening to the hushed voices and sound of drawers opening.

When he caught up, he saw Jeremy holding Fletcher close to the side of his body with one hand and a hurriedly packed bag in the other. Fletcher looked up at Wyatt, a glint of fear striking the corners of his eyes as he clutched onto Jeremy event tighter. Jeremy on the other hand stared daggers at Wyatt, his nostrils flaring as Wyatt realised whom Jeremy had been talking to on the phone just before. He tried to apologise and start to profess his lack of knowledge and deniability only to see the two boys disappear with the all too familiar ‘pop’. He was stunned for a moment, why had Kieran, the boy whom Fletcher had told him was his brother be asking Jeremy to kidnap Fletcher let alone calling him at such an early hour. Then a shocking realisation hit him, what if Kieran was one of the others in the dream? Recalling the dream he scratched out the only male he knew in that dream; the infamous James Hazen who looked more like a psychopath than a World Changer and began calling to mind the others. At first he thought it could have been the large biker dude, he seemed pretty protective, but then again James Hazen had called him ‘Nate’, unless Nate was just a cover? The other three guys however, none of them said their names nor were spoken to by name, perhaps one of them was this Kieran guy?

Shaking his head, Wyatt turned to leave the room, heading further down the hall towards his own bedroom and giving up on trying to decipher who Kieran was. He was almost to his door when Jeremy’s familiar ‘pop’ sounded in the hall. Wyatt had just enough time to turn around to apologise to the kid before Jeremy’s body collide with his own, sending them sprawling backwards. Only, they never hit the ground. Wind now whistled in his airs as the frigid outside temperature chilled him even more with the wind. Opening his eyes all he could see was blue sky and the anger-contorted face of Jeremy as the kid gripped his shoulders so tight his knuckles were going red.

“I swear, you will die on the pavement below!” Jeremy screamed through the rush of air before teleporting Wyatt back into the hallway, falling a couple of feet to the ground as the air rushed out of Wyatt’s lungs. Jeremy pushed himself up off of Wyatt before turning around and heading to his own room; slamming the door shut.

Lying there on the floor, Wyatt stared up at the ceiling for a few moments trying to collect his thoughts after Jeremy’s murderous threat. He hadn’t meant to tick the guy off; the reaction just a product of being in the wrong place in the wrong time. Then again, even the amount of stress Jeremy was under was little reason to do such a thing. When he had been on the phone Jeremy had been fearful of what the Syndicate would do to him if they ever found out what he had done. Just how bad was this ‘R and D’ section of the Syndicate?

“I swear you must be mentally retarded or something.” Tilting his head towards the voice he noticed October standing above his head. Stretching further he tried to look up her skirt but she was obviously standing temptingly close so that she could catch him trying to steal a look and punish him so. Smiling, he flicked visions only to have a boot fall flat on his face.

“Geez, goddamnit!” he cried out in pain, cradling his bruising face.

“Wow, get a life, creep.” She uttered as she stepped over his hunched body.

Staggering to his feet, Wyatt managed to find his way back to his room through teary eyes. Stripping his clothes off he stepped into the shower, feeling the warm embrace of hot water soothe his aching face. In all honesty he deserved every bit of pain for trying that stunt but why did October have to tempt him like that? She was always acting like a massive tease whenever Adrian wasn’t around and Wyatt figured she must get off on it somehow. Finishing his shower, Wyatt reached for his Syndicate uniform rather than the mufti clothes he had worn before. No doubt today would be another day of training and missions, and he would especially have to keep an eye out for Jeremy so as not to anger him again. Once dressed he slung his quiver over his shoulder and with bow in hand, made his way out to the lounge to join the others for breakfast.

Last edited by revlis; 2 Days Ago at 04:22 AM.
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