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Agnes Johansson and Oakley North - Atlantean Unification Project HQ, Toulouse, France
Freddie stood there for a short while after Agnes left him. What was he meant to be doing up here again? He couldn't remember. Wait, oh, there was a book in his hand that stimulated his memory; he was meant to be reading. But at the mention of food, his stomach made a unhappy grumble and he too decided that perhaps he too should go have a look what the cafeteria had to offer.
Agnes took one of her quickest showers ever - her stomach more or less screamed for food now that she had realized it. Clad in an orange tunic with a brown twisted belt on her hips, black leggins underneath (it was still winter, after all) and her impressively long hair twinned into one thick braid with curls sticking out from it, she descended to the cafeteria in less than 10 minutes. Scanning the area while she grabbed a tray, some simple scones and two full cups of coffee and juice, she quickly spotted Oakley.
"Hi!" she beamed and walked up to her, only then noticing that Emil's son was also sitting at the table. He stared at her as if he had no intention of greeting her back. Agnes just sighed but smiled as she sat down next to Oakley. At least his kind of 'cold' wasn't like Delta's. Agnes imagined he just had a lot to think about, so she kind of pitied him.
It was a short elevator ride down and despite the amount of times he had ridden it, Freddie still felt queasy as it touched on the bottom floor. He wobbled out and slowly made his way to the cafeteria. Like usual, the buffet held an assortment of bacon, eggs, milk, cereal, pancakes and whatever else could be eaten at breakfast. He took a few English muffins, sausages, scones and jam and scanned the area. There were a few empty tables, but Frederick noticed the familiar wave and beaming face of Agnes, sitting with Devon and the new girl, who Freddie had not met as of yet. With a nervous sigh, he made his way over, stepping carefully so that he didn't spill his food by tripping over his clumsy feet.
"Took you some time, fancylegs!" Agnes teased with a wink. Freddie made some kind of nervous whimper as he sat down next to her. She then turned back to the first residents of their table. "How are you schettling in?" she asked Oakley while chewing on a piece of scones.
"Okay," Oakley said with a small nod, "though I've only really met Mr. Bernot, Mr. Cooper and Devon here." Her nod turned into a shake. "Everybody seems so busy. Is it always like this?"
"Not usually." This time, it was Devon to speak up. "It's only because of what happened in Paris." Freddie was a little surprised to hear Devon string so many words together.
"Ah." Oakley scooped up a bit of spaghetti, taking bites which didn't really look like she was tasting, let alone eating it. She zoned out for a second, then remmebered that she was now surrounded by new people who she had not introduced herself to. How rude of her to forget! "Oh, sorry. My name is Oakley North. What are your names?" She aimed the question towards Agnes and Freddie. Surprisingly, Freddie was first to reply.
"F-Frederick Salusbury," Freddie blurted out a little too quickly. "But everybody here c-calls me F-Freddie."
"I'm Agnes Johansson, maybe you forgot!" Agnes said with a little giggle. "Then again, we didn't really introduce ourselves, I just overheard Delta saying your name yesterday. Sorry 'bout that."
She eyed Oakley a little more closely, with interest, and also glanced over at Devon. During her whole week here, she hadn't really talked with him. She wondered what made him speak up now. Did he fancy Oakley, maybe? Oh god, that would be so cute. Managing to suppress another giggle, she talked again.
"Freddie here used to be a teacher! A really smart guy. Well, I guess he's still really smart, despite looking a bit, um, sheepish. And I used to be just an average teenager in Stockholm, Sweden. I was doing parkour though! Great fun. Haven't gotten to practice that much here, but then again, who needs fancy running and jumping on rooftops when you can fly?"
She wiggled her eyebrows a little, as if she was proud of her Atlantean power for once. "Where do you come from, Oakley? And what exactly is your ability now? I didn't really catch that."
"Well..."
"It's rude to ask about people's abilities, you know," Devon butted in, a line creasing inbetween his eyes. Concerned eyes slowly fell upon him, but he kept his sour face. Freddie raised his eyebrows slowly at the Oakley shook her head, continuing what she said before.
"No, it's okay," she waved the negativity away with her hands. "I was born in Toronto, and I've lived in London for a while but before this," she gestured to the headquarters as if it was a symbol of all the Atlantean stuff that had happened, "I lived here. Not here but in an Academy, in Toulouse. As for my ability, um..."
She raised her right arm onto the table. Thanks to the Librarian's necklace (which she had not taken off), she had been able to keep her armour at bay. With an exhale and a crease in her brow, she tried to concentrate. At first, there was nothing, and Oakley just felt herself get a hot face. Then, she increased the pace of her breaths, like she was going on a run, until slowly, like she was growing scales, metal started to grow over the skin. It stung, like splinters in her hand, until it reached just her palm. The skin around hand and just up her arm had bruised and turned black and thick, like it was heavily calloused. Her hand had also expanded as well, but she knew if she let it go to her shoulder, she wouldn't be able to eat anymore of her breakfast.
"That's... pretty cool." Devon's raised eyebrows and impressed nod made Oakley blush. She assumed, being the son of the guy who was the head of this organisation, that he had seen a fair few abiltiies in his life time.
Agnes did more than raise eyebrows. When the armor began growing, she almost jumped out of her seat, making her cups of coffee dance dangerously on the table. "Wow," she said. "Some kind of armor? You are, like, the invincible girl. That's amazing, Oakley!"
She sat down properly again with an apologizing smile to Freddie, and then shot Devon a curious look. "Why would it be rude to ask? Sorry, I still don't understand all Atlantean taboos and dos and donts. I was born human, you know?" She meant it like a joke and winked to him across the table.
"It's like a form of trust," Devon said, his eyes moving to Agnes, unblinking. "That's what my dad told me. Like telling someone something personal, or a secret. That's what it's meant to mean. But it means different things to different people."
"I r-read that in o-old Atlantis, the only people who-who knew your abilities, was f-family, l-l-lovers and your closest friends," Freddie added.
"Where'd you read that?" Devon shot back, almost accusingly. Freddie was caught a little off guard.
"I-In the library?"
"Hm."
"Wow, so there are actual texts from the time where Atlanteans lived? I mean, we're alive now of course, but I mean with their Atlantean civilization? That's so cool!" Agnes smiled widely. "I haven't even checked out the library yet. I don't usually read much, I guess."
"You d-don't r-r-read?" Freddie whispered, almost in shock, but went ignored.
She turned to Devon. "And yeah, I can understand that, I guess. Sorry. But at least that means I trust Oakley then? Or wait. Maybe it means she trusts me if she tells me. Hang on, I think I need more coffee to wrap my head around this."
She sure didn't feel like the brightest person around in early mornings. Even though it wasn't even early anymore. After emptying her second cup, she asked if any of the others wanted to join her for some gun training. It was the only part of their training here that Agnes felt she really grasped, but she didn't tell them that. Oakley agreed (having never handled a gun before) and Devon and Freddie piped up that they would come and watch (since they really didn't have anything else to do anyway) so when all had finished eating, they wandered on over to the training rooms, with Devon leading the way. The rooms were all empty, so Devon picked a room at random, being 1B.
All of the weaponry were in the cupboards at the far end and with a flick of a switch, a bunch of targets appeared on the back wall. Oakley was unsure what she was allowed to touch, so she let Agnes go first. Devon and Freddie had made themselves comfortable at the edge of the room, as far from the targets as they could safely get.
Agnes held a gun in her hands, steady with both of them. She felt the yet cold metal against her skin and just as it had done in Paris, it made her feel strangely safe. Back when she had been living with her father in a tiny town in Sweden, she wouldn't have dreamed of touching a gun. Why would people need guns really? Stupid things that could get you killed. But now it was different. In a world where people could shoot fire or ice from their fingertips, a girl with no fancy Atlantean armor or superspeed needed some kind of comfort. She needed a pistol.
Flashing Oakley a reassuring smile, she stepped up to the shooting lane. The room was silent and Agnes felt the staring looks of Devon and the others in her neck. Freddie had watched her fire before, even though he hadn't liked it much at all. She had never seen Devon in here though, but just assumed that he had, despite his age, seen gunfire before this day.
This was just training, anyways. Nothing dangerous. Even though she had been strictly told to always remember that a gun was dangerous and shouldn't be treated as a harmless toy, she didn't feel scared or overly respectful now. The thing she held in her hands was just a metal item with technology that could fling a metal bullet at high velocity against the opposite wall.
She aimed, and fired. And missed. The bullet hit just outside the outlines of a body on the target plate. Her smile fell.
"Just unlucky," she said and raised the gun once more. More focused this time. She felt the silence in the air around her, and thought about flying through the skies of Stockholm. She missed Stockholm. But she wouldn't miss this target.
The trigger was pulled, the bullet was fired. The air between the gun and the mark on the other side of the room was clear - ventilation in the training rooms was always good. No distractions, no hindrances. Just plain, free air and a straight line between Agnes and her target. She watched it happen in slow motion. Saw that the trajectory of the bullet was not completely as straight as she had wanted it to be. Her hand had moved a little just as she pulled the trigger. That wouldn't do. She wasn't going to miss this time. The bullet needed to go left. Just a little. Just a little more straight towards that mark on the target where she had intended for it to hit...
Full score. A perfect headshot. Agnes dropped her jaw but quickly closed her mouth again and lowered the gun while clearing her throat. "That's how it's done!"
She didn't feel as good as she looked though. Part of her was overjoyed that she seemed to be able to do something this well. But another part knew that out in the field, face to face with a live target, she wouldn't be able to focus this much. She might not even be able to fire. She was not like Delta.
Agnes took one of her quickest showers ever - her stomach more or less screamed for food now that she had realized it. Clad in an orange tunic with a brown twisted belt on her hips, black leggins underneath (it was still winter, after all) and her impressively long hair twinned into one thick braid with curls sticking out from it, she descended to the cafeteria in less than 10 minutes. Scanning the area while she grabbed a tray, some simple scones and two full cups of coffee and juice, she quickly spotted Oakley.
"Hi!" she beamed and walked up to her, only then noticing that Emil's son was also sitting at the table. He stared at her as if he had no intention of greeting her back. Agnes just sighed but smiled as she sat down next to Oakley. At least his kind of 'cold' wasn't like Delta's. Agnes imagined he just had a lot to think about, so she kind of pitied him.
It was a short elevator ride down and despite the amount of times he had ridden it, Freddie still felt queasy as it touched on the bottom floor. He wobbled out and slowly made his way to the cafeteria. Like usual, the buffet held an assortment of bacon, eggs, milk, cereal, pancakes and whatever else could be eaten at breakfast. He took a few English muffins, sausages, scones and jam and scanned the area. There were a few empty tables, but Frederick noticed the familiar wave and beaming face of Agnes, sitting with Devon and the new girl, who Freddie had not met as of yet. With a nervous sigh, he made his way over, stepping carefully so that he didn't spill his food by tripping over his clumsy feet.
"Took you some time, fancylegs!" Agnes teased with a wink. Freddie made some kind of nervous whimper as he sat down next to her. She then turned back to the first residents of their table. "How are you schettling in?" she asked Oakley while chewing on a piece of scones.
"Okay," Oakley said with a small nod, "though I've only really met Mr. Bernot, Mr. Cooper and Devon here." Her nod turned into a shake. "Everybody seems so busy. Is it always like this?"
"Not usually." This time, it was Devon to speak up. "It's only because of what happened in Paris." Freddie was a little surprised to hear Devon string so many words together.
"Ah." Oakley scooped up a bit of spaghetti, taking bites which didn't really look like she was tasting, let alone eating it. She zoned out for a second, then remmebered that she was now surrounded by new people who she had not introduced herself to. How rude of her to forget! "Oh, sorry. My name is Oakley North. What are your names?" She aimed the question towards Agnes and Freddie. Surprisingly, Freddie was first to reply.
"F-Frederick Salusbury," Freddie blurted out a little too quickly. "But everybody here c-calls me F-Freddie."
"I'm Agnes Johansson, maybe you forgot!" Agnes said with a little giggle. "Then again, we didn't really introduce ourselves, I just overheard Delta saying your name yesterday. Sorry 'bout that."
She eyed Oakley a little more closely, with interest, and also glanced over at Devon. During her whole week here, she hadn't really talked with him. She wondered what made him speak up now. Did he fancy Oakley, maybe? Oh god, that would be so cute. Managing to suppress another giggle, she talked again.
"Freddie here used to be a teacher! A really smart guy. Well, I guess he's still really smart, despite looking a bit, um, sheepish. And I used to be just an average teenager in Stockholm, Sweden. I was doing parkour though! Great fun. Haven't gotten to practice that much here, but then again, who needs fancy running and jumping on rooftops when you can fly?"
She wiggled her eyebrows a little, as if she was proud of her Atlantean power for once. "Where do you come from, Oakley? And what exactly is your ability now? I didn't really catch that."
"Well..."
"It's rude to ask about people's abilities, you know," Devon butted in, a line creasing inbetween his eyes. Concerned eyes slowly fell upon him, but he kept his sour face. Freddie raised his eyebrows slowly at the Oakley shook her head, continuing what she said before.
"No, it's okay," she waved the negativity away with her hands. "I was born in Toronto, and I've lived in London for a while but before this," she gestured to the headquarters as if it was a symbol of all the Atlantean stuff that had happened, "I lived here. Not here but in an Academy, in Toulouse. As for my ability, um..."
She raised her right arm onto the table. Thanks to the Librarian's necklace (which she had not taken off), she had been able to keep her armour at bay. With an exhale and a crease in her brow, she tried to concentrate. At first, there was nothing, and Oakley just felt herself get a hot face. Then, she increased the pace of her breaths, like she was going on a run, until slowly, like she was growing scales, metal started to grow over the skin. It stung, like splinters in her hand, until it reached just her palm. The skin around hand and just up her arm had bruised and turned black and thick, like it was heavily calloused. Her hand had also expanded as well, but she knew if she let it go to her shoulder, she wouldn't be able to eat anymore of her breakfast.
"That's... pretty cool." Devon's raised eyebrows and impressed nod made Oakley blush. She assumed, being the son of the guy who was the head of this organisation, that he had seen a fair few abiltiies in his life time.
Agnes did more than raise eyebrows. When the armor began growing, she almost jumped out of her seat, making her cups of coffee dance dangerously on the table. "Wow," she said. "Some kind of armor? You are, like, the invincible girl. That's amazing, Oakley!"
She sat down properly again with an apologizing smile to Freddie, and then shot Devon a curious look. "Why would it be rude to ask? Sorry, I still don't understand all Atlantean taboos and dos and donts. I was born human, you know?" She meant it like a joke and winked to him across the table.
"It's like a form of trust," Devon said, his eyes moving to Agnes, unblinking. "That's what my dad told me. Like telling someone something personal, or a secret. That's what it's meant to mean. But it means different things to different people."
"I r-read that in o-old Atlantis, the only people who-who knew your abilities, was f-family, l-l-lovers and your closest friends," Freddie added.
"Where'd you read that?" Devon shot back, almost accusingly. Freddie was caught a little off guard.
"I-In the library?"
"Hm."
"Wow, so there are actual texts from the time where Atlanteans lived? I mean, we're alive now of course, but I mean with their Atlantean civilization? That's so cool!" Agnes smiled widely. "I haven't even checked out the library yet. I don't usually read much, I guess."
"You d-don't r-r-read?" Freddie whispered, almost in shock, but went ignored.
She turned to Devon. "And yeah, I can understand that, I guess. Sorry. But at least that means I trust Oakley then? Or wait. Maybe it means she trusts me if she tells me. Hang on, I think I need more coffee to wrap my head around this."
She sure didn't feel like the brightest person around in early mornings. Even though it wasn't even early anymore. After emptying her second cup, she asked if any of the others wanted to join her for some gun training. It was the only part of their training here that Agnes felt she really grasped, but she didn't tell them that. Oakley agreed (having never handled a gun before) and Devon and Freddie piped up that they would come and watch (since they really didn't have anything else to do anyway) so when all had finished eating, they wandered on over to the training rooms, with Devon leading the way. The rooms were all empty, so Devon picked a room at random, being 1B.
All of the weaponry were in the cupboards at the far end and with a flick of a switch, a bunch of targets appeared on the back wall. Oakley was unsure what she was allowed to touch, so she let Agnes go first. Devon and Freddie had made themselves comfortable at the edge of the room, as far from the targets as they could safely get.
Agnes held a gun in her hands, steady with both of them. She felt the yet cold metal against her skin and just as it had done in Paris, it made her feel strangely safe. Back when she had been living with her father in a tiny town in Sweden, she wouldn't have dreamed of touching a gun. Why would people need guns really? Stupid things that could get you killed. But now it was different. In a world where people could shoot fire or ice from their fingertips, a girl with no fancy Atlantean armor or superspeed needed some kind of comfort. She needed a pistol.
Flashing Oakley a reassuring smile, she stepped up to the shooting lane. The room was silent and Agnes felt the staring looks of Devon and the others in her neck. Freddie had watched her fire before, even though he hadn't liked it much at all. She had never seen Devon in here though, but just assumed that he had, despite his age, seen gunfire before this day.
This was just training, anyways. Nothing dangerous. Even though she had been strictly told to always remember that a gun was dangerous and shouldn't be treated as a harmless toy, she didn't feel scared or overly respectful now. The thing she held in her hands was just a metal item with technology that could fling a metal bullet at high velocity against the opposite wall.
She aimed, and fired. And missed. The bullet hit just outside the outlines of a body on the target plate. Her smile fell.
"Just unlucky," she said and raised the gun once more. More focused this time. She felt the silence in the air around her, and thought about flying through the skies of Stockholm. She missed Stockholm. But she wouldn't miss this target.
The trigger was pulled, the bullet was fired. The air between the gun and the mark on the other side of the room was clear - ventilation in the training rooms was always good. No distractions, no hindrances. Just plain, free air and a straight line between Agnes and her target. She watched it happen in slow motion. Saw that the trajectory of the bullet was not completely as straight as she had wanted it to be. Her hand had moved a little just as she pulled the trigger. That wouldn't do. She wasn't going to miss this time. The bullet needed to go left. Just a little. Just a little more straight towards that mark on the target where she had intended for it to hit...
Full score. A perfect headshot. Agnes dropped her jaw but quickly closed her mouth again and lowered the gun while clearing her throat. "That's how it's done!"
She didn't feel as good as she looked though. Part of her was overjoyed that she seemed to be able to do something this well. But another part knew that out in the field, face to face with a live target, she wouldn't be able to focus this much. She might not even be able to fire. She was not like Delta.